


Through the Storm

by tabbycat



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-28
Updated: 2018-02-27
Packaged: 2019-02-23 04:56:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 30
Words: 86,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13182825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tabbycat/pseuds/tabbycat
Summary: Remus Lupin is a werewolf, and werewolves can’t be trusted to fall in love. He’s always believed that. As the Second Wizarding War begins to play out around him, he begins to have feelings for a clever, funny and talented Auror. And she has feelings for him too. Follow Remus through the gathering storm of war as he tries to piece together a life for himself despite the dangers around him, the death of his last best friend, and the effects of being in love for the very first time.This is not going to be a traditional romance. It is a story of love and werewolves, of learning to fight like a Muggle and to trust in himself.The story follows Remus from halfway through Order of the Phoenix to the end of Deathly Hallows. It’s canon-compliant. I skim over the scenes we see from Remus in the books, but they can all be assumed to happen exactly as written.  Major character death is for those already described in the books.





	1. Stakeouts and Combat Boots

**Author's Note:**

> This chapter includes a quote from Pottermore. The lines “he’s still handsome, isn’t he, even after Azkaban”, “I suppose you’ve fallen for him too, he always got the women” and “you’d know perfectly well who I’ve fallen for, if you weren’t too busy feeling sorry for yourself to notice” are not mine and I’m not trying to pretend they are :).

The witch was lying flat on her front on the ground, casting spells of concealment around her while peering under a huge blue dustbin. The gap between floor and bin gave her hiding space a great vantage point, but it wasn’t the most comfortable. She finished casting her final spell, and shifted her weight around to try and find a more comfortable position.

In doing so, she kicked Remus Lupin hard on the shin. Her combat boots were practical, but fucking hurt when she kicked someone.

“Oh Merlin, I’m so sorry!” she said, spinning round to apologies and jabbing him in the knee with her wand.

“It’s nothing, please stop apologising,” Remus said, rolling up his Muggle jeans to inspect the damage. The boots were impressive. They’d managed to slightly break the skin even through the thick denim.

“I really am so sorry,” said the witch. “I’ll take them off if you want?”

“And then what would you do if we were spotted? Battle Death Eaters in your socks?” Remus asked, even though it was the third time this week her boots had hurt him and he’d have been glad to have seen the back of them. “Keep them on, please Tonks, and please for the love of all that is holy keep them to yourself.”

The witch, Nymphadora Tonks, grinned. “My mother told me when I was six years old that I should cast Cushioning Charms on my body to protect everyone around me.”

“Perhaps you should take her advice,” said Remus. 

“When does anyone take their mothers advice?” 

Remus could think of many occasions he’d taken his mothers’ advice. However, as most of the advice he’d listened to had been about concealing his lycanthropy, he probably was an unusual case. He would add it to the list of reasons being a werewolf made him different. He’d actually compiled a list once in his fifth year of Hogwarts with the help of James Potter, and they’d got to twenty-seven inches of parchment before they’d given up.

“Anyway,” said Remus, thinking to change the subject, “seen anything yet?”

Tonks had got back down onto the floor as he was talking and was staring intently at a door on the other side of the street. The huge black door with an ornate golden knocker belonged to an impressive house. It was tall, standing three stories above its fairly large neighbours. The stonework around the windows was engraved with patterning. Huge bushes flanked the doorway, and a long gravel pathway lead from a gateway adorned with silver runes. It was unlikely the house was visible to the Muggle residents of the street, given its ownership, but if it was a passer-by would have noticed it very similar if slightly more flashy than the others.

An Order member would be able to recognise the feel of magic. Darker magic.

“Not a peep,” she said. “Could be he’s changed the time.”

“It’s only ten to,” said Remus, checking his watch.

They had been assigned to stake out the Death Eater Yaxley’s house, as Dumbledore was certain that some kind of planning meeting was due to take place there. He thought, although he was less sure about this, that they would be planning their assault on the Ministry of Magic. It was of course highly unlikely they’d be able to see anything. It would be useful to know who was attending though so that the individuals could be more easily tracked. Their spy amongst the Death Eaters, Severus Snape, had managed to get them the information this far, but he didn’t know who was involved in this plan and had felt he was unable to ask for fear of raising suspicion.

Remus had volunteered for this particular mission after finding out that Tonks was going to be there. Sitting waiting around was not his preferred type of mission, although stealth was something he was good at. He’d always been good at not being noticed, since the werewolf bite.

As a kid he’d referred to it as ‘that wolf thing’, almost as if giving a name to what had happened would make it real. Each month at the full moon, however, it was real all the same. Remus hadn’t had friends until Hogwarts, and it wasn’t until his second year he felt at home with them. 

He could pin it down to a moment, the very first time he had felt as if he belonged with his friends.

James and Sirius had been messing around in Charms, chucking notes at each other egging each other on to do silly, pointless things like floating Alison Brown’s pencil case when she wasn’t looking. Then, Sirius had thrown a note to Remus. He unfolded it, and it said ‘levitate Flitwick’s water goblet’. He’d done it, and then Flitwick had spotted James charming the window open, found the notes, and they’d all been given detention. 

He’d floated out of that classroom, despite the detention and the house points Flitwick had deducted from Gryffindor. He had friends who wanted to get detention with him.

It was almost stupid how insignificant it was, Remus thought, but he still couldn’t shake the warm feeling when he thought of that day.

And then James had died, he thought Peter had died and that Sirius had betrayed them all, and he’d decided never to have friends again as it was all more heartbreak than it was worth. Even if only some of that had turned out to be true.

Way to bring a downer, Lupin, he thought to himself. Think of something else, or you’ll be a useless maudlin mess. Even more than usual.

“Is that something?” said Tonks, scrunching forwards under the bin at the sight of movement. She kicked Remus again as she did so. He decided to say nothing, and squished himself in beside her.

“That’s Dolohov,” muttered Remus. Antonin Dolohov was a famous Death Eater, one of their best fighters. He'd killed Molly Weasley’s brothers in the first Wizarding War, and Remus himself had barely escaped him when they’d duelled before in a disastrous raid on a Death Eater hideout in Somerset. “He nearly killed me once, but I managed to Stun him and just about escaped.”

“Seriously?” said Tonks as she watched Dolohov open the gate of the house opposite with the black door. “He’s terrifying, I don't think I’d have a hope against him.”

Remus had no idea why he had this compulsion to talk about his exploits in front of Tonks. Almost like he was showing off.

“I’m sure you would,” he said. “You’re an impressive fighter, I’ve watched you practice. And you’ve beaten Death Eaters before.”

He also had no idea why he kept feeling the need to compliment her.

Tonks was staring straight at the door still, but even in just the light of the one lonely street lamp Remus could swear she was blushing a bit.

The whole compliment thing was probably because he was in love with Nymphadora Tonks. And there was the odd moment like this where it seemed almost like she could be in love with him too.

“I’ve beaten easy ones,” she said, “and Dolohov would squash me. I’m not as good as you.”

There was another moment like that.

“I was better before,” he said. “Younger, fitter, more practice. Hang on, that’s Rowle.”

“Three in there, plus Yaxley, and it’s five past eight,” said Tonks. “I’m guessing they ward their doors, and these will be of no use?” She held up a tangle of flesh coloured string and wiggling ears. Remus recognised them instantly as Extendable Ears, invented by Fred and George Weasley to eavesdrop.

“I’ll bet they do. Does Molly know you’ve got these?” 

“She does. I think she still hates them, but I think I managed to convince her of their use to the Order. I told Fred and George I’d nick them back off her for them, as long as they didn’t use them in Headquarters anymore. Molly caught me and I had to think fast.”

Remus smiled softly. Fred and George had more front than Blackpool, as his mum would have said, and Tonks wasn’t far off them sometimes.

“Anyway, I’ll go check,” said Tonks, and before he could put up a show of chivalry and offer to go in her place Tonks had thrown Moody’s spare Invisibility Cloak over herself, pulled herself up and was off to the gateway of number 5.

Remus had been pondering why these chivalrous urges always came on around Tonks too when he was prodded in the back. He swing round, wand raised, before he heard a whispered “wotcher” and Tonks pulled off the Invisibility Cloak as she slipped back within their wards.

“Good reflexes,” she said. “Not as old as you look, clearly.”

Now it was Remus’ turn to blush. 

“Any luck?”

“Nope. Their protective spells don't have a gap in them, couldn't get within three feet of the gate without setting off at least six alarms. Ears wouldn't have had a hope.”

“What’s that in your hand? 

“Dungbomb.” Tonks grinned. “Chuck them at stuff to test if things have been Impeturbed, and works against other wards too.”

Remus bit back the urge for another compliment, but it was very clever. 

Tonks sat down next to him. Yaxley’s house may have been in a fancy part of Muggle London, but as any urban area it still provided good opportunities for hiding places to watch him as long as you didn't mind being around bins, broken sofas or pissed-in phone boxes. She shuffled sideways to get a better look around the bin, brushing Remus’ arm as she did so.

A shiver, a happy shiver, spread through Remus’ body. This had to stop, he thought. Before the war, he’d have taken himself off to a new town, a new job at the first signs of love to make sure nobody had to know and nobody got hurt. Werewolves were not designed to love, and no good would have come of any of it.

But the Order needed him, and Minerva McGonagall had cornered him a month ago to inform him of that in no uncertain terms. It was almost as if she’d known, and she couldn't have, as he’d been sure to bury his feelings for this beautiful witch so far down that he’d have a chance of forgetting them himself.

So he was going to have to stick it out. He’d stay until Voldemort had been defeated, being sure to never let on, and he could then safely disappear. She would be happy, and he would be a werewolf.

He could only hope that he wouldn't have to watch her fall in love with anyone else. Some attractive young Auror probably, and have to attend the wedding and smile and wish the couple well and…

“Remus?”

Her voice broke his train of thought.

“You alright? It’s just I don't think much is happening, but you don't look as though you’d notice if it did.”

“Sorry. Just thinking about stuff.”

“You look like Sirius does when he thinks about Harry.”

Remus could well imagine he did. Sirius hated being trapped in Grimmauld Place unable to do anything for his godson despite his impulses to help. Remus was not trapped physically, but definitely constrained, and just as unable to do anything on his own desires.

“He’s struggling at the moment,” said Remus, thinking the subject of Sirius was safer than getting anywhere near his own worries. “Harry back at Hogwarts with Dolores Umbridge out to trip him up and worse. Being unable to act never suited Sirius. At Hogwarts he was a completely different man.”

“I’d like to have known him then,” said Tonks. “Bet he was fun.”

“He was,” Remus said. “Most the boys wanted to be like him, and half the girls wanted to date him. His pranks were legendary and he was commonly considered the most attractive boy in Gryffindor, if not the whole school.”

“He’s still handsome, isn't he, even after Azkaban?” she said.

Anger rose in Remus as she said those words. Not her as well! Remus couldn’t have hoped for Tonks to return his feelings, and it was better she didn’t, but the woman he loved could have least have had the common decency to fall in love with some faceless fellow Auror and not his best fucking friend. This was exactly why he should have left by now, Order or no Order, whatever Albus Dumbledore and Minerva McGonagall had to say about the subject.

“I suppose you’ve fallen for him too,” Remus spat. “He always got the women.”

He always had, he’d even gone out with the only girls in Hogwarts Remus had successfully asked out on a date. Helena Davies in their sixth year, and Cassie Abbott in their seventh. Water under a bridge now between the two men, helped along by a duel on the second occasion, but the anger and frustration he'd felt at the time was back.

Remus had expected that feeling. He often had it when reminded how he’d never be the one to get the woman, whether due to his friend or his circumstance. He hadn't expected Tonks’ reaction.

“You’d know perfectly well who I’ve fallen for, if you weren't too busy feeling sorry for yourself to notice.” The witch looked angry, her hair suddenly a crimson red and spiky and her eyes the darkest brown. The unmistakable smell of a crushed Dungbomb filled the air. She turned away from him, fixing her eyes firmly on the black door opposite and setting her shoulders.

A feeling that he’d never felt before flooded Remus’ body, an electric shock of excitement and nervousness and levity. Could she? Did she? How long had she?

Tonks loved him, and she knew what he was.

What he was. That bite at the age of four and the curse that came with it had shaped his destiny though and he knew he could not love, as he could not marry. He could not put a woman through what his parents had lived, and he could not risk passing on the curse to a child. A child! A little baby wolf, forced to transform into a dangerous creature from it’s first weeks and forced to a life such as he had had. No, this was good for nobody, and Tonks, the clever, funny, beautiful woman he loved, deserved more than he could give her. 

He would pretend he hadn’t understood, that’s what he would do. She would move on, and he would avoid a situation like this again. That was the best way. He’d be the only one to suffer, really, and that was fine.


	2. The Order Meeting

Remus Lupin Apparated neatly into the grassy square at Grimmauld Place, checked his surroundings with a practiced glance and began to walk towards number 12. In tired looking jeans and a grey jumper, the Muggles coming out of number 13 didn’t give him a second glance. They didn’t notice him disappear, either, as he climbed onto the top step and opened the front door.

Despite his friendship with Sirius in their school years, Remus had never seen the Black family home until it had become the Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix the previous summer. James would possibly have been allowed in, as he was a pureblood if a Gryffindor. Remus had a Muggle mother, and a father from no famous wizarding background, so he would not have been a welcome guest.

The other Marauders had seen enough of Sirius’ parents on Platform 9 3/4 each year to know that they didn’t much want to visit Sirius’ house. He’d also warned them about the beheaded house elves and the various Dark artefacts. Most of the worst items were gone now thanks to Molly Weasley, but the sense of sadness Remus felt on entering hadn’t. It was the same sadness he felt around Sirius each year in early September on arrival back in Hogwarts.

The Order meeting had already started when Remus entered the kitchen, which had been his aim. He slipped in and found an empty chair in between Sirius and Mundungus. Sirius looked angry, his eyebrows furrowing as he tipped backwards on his chair. Mundungus might have been asleep, and seemed to have a large amount of mud smeared on the back of his brown robes.

From across the table, Molly Weasley gave him a curious look. The chair he’d chosen wasn’t the only empty chair in the room, and it was further away from the door than the other one. But the other empty chair was right next to a mousey-haired witch, and Remus was not intending to sit next to Nymphadora Tonks.

Remus looked away from Molly, and tuned into what Mad-Eye Moody was saying. He needed to catch up on what was going on, and he had no interest in Molly’s interpretation of his actions.

He knew Tonks had been talking to her, if not since the day outside Yaxley’s house then at least for a few weeks now. Arthur had told him. Molly had some kind of romantic notion in her head of him and Tonks being a couple, having a relationship, and was the kind of witch who would have taken Remus’ reasons against it for excuses. He had great respect for Molly Weasley. She was an excellent witch and a good friend. But she was an utterly hopeless romantic. 

“We have pieced together a fair amount of the actions of the Death Eaters, based on what our operatives have seen personally and what other Aurors at the Ministry are seeing. But, we must remember that the Ministry does not believe Voldemort has returned, and they are not routinely tracking Death Eaters. Only our own observations can be trusted as true. We cannot assume that we have seen everything, and I don’t think we have seen even half of what we are up against. There are huge gaps in our knowledge, and they are tracking us too! Constant vigilance!”

Some months ago Remus would have said Moody was exaggerating. Now, from what he had seen out in the field Remus was forced to admit that the threat was nearly as dire as Moody was making it out to be.

Bill Weasley slid a sheaf of parchment over the table towards Remus. It contained no less than 41 agenda points, and by the looks of it they were still on number two. It was going to be a long meeting, this one.

“We’ll need volunteers,” said Moody. “I’m going to need someone to track Lucius Malfoy - I have reason to believe he’s up to something. I know that man personally and by reputation. Whatever he is up to will not be pretty.”

Remus stuck his hand up to volunteer. They’d go through the charade of him volunteering, Tonks trying to stop him and failing. Molly would take her side, and Moody or Albus when he was there would overrule them and he’d go once again on a dangerous mission. That was how it worked these days, and how he needed it to be.

He attempted to leave quickly when the meeting was over, not wanting to get drawn into conversation.

“Remus, stay for a drink?” Sirius asked. He peered up at him from his chair. He looked as though he needed one.

Remus looked around the room; Tonks had gone and so had Molly. Good.

“Okay,” said Remus quietly. “One drink, then I’d better go so I can get some sleep before having to follow that ridiculous blond hair around.”

Sirius gave him a reluctant smile. Every time Remus saw his old best friend, he looked older, scruffier and more worn. He somehow managed to be both lethargic and restless at the same time, spending much of his time in a chair tapping his fingers, shuffling his feet or messing with an old mirror.

He crossed to the pantry and pulled out a bottle, then to the cupboard for glasses, passing them to Sirius who poured a healthy measure for himself, Remus and for Bill and Arthur, who were sat at the other end of the table quietly discussing something. That was likely to be item number 34, which had been about Gringotts Bank.

Sirius slumped down into his chair, half the liquid in his glass already gone. Remus picked up his own. He knew his friend well enough to know when he had something to say, and this was one of those times.

“Molly thinks you’re trying to get yourself killed,” Sirius said finally. His long black hair was uncombed and had flopped into his eyes, obscuring them from Remus. “Are you?”

“No,” said Remus, taking a sip of the drink. “I’m trying to help the Order. I’m unemployed, the longer missions are difficult for those with jobs. It’s just the most efficient solution.”

“You’re all I have left,” said Sirius, his drink gone. “You and Harry, and as Severus so kindly keeps reminding me, he is a child and my godson and not James. You are my only friend in this world, and if you go and get yourself fucking killed because you can’t face that you love someone then fuck you.”

Remus had not been expecting the vitriol. He’d not realised Sirius knew. He thought about denying it, but now there was a pause and any denial would come too late for it to be believable. And anyway, who was Sirius that he could tell Remus what to do? He had no idea how it felt to be a werewolf, none at all. To be utterly useless to anyone, stuck skulking around at the edges of society, to be alone.

“If that’s how you’re going to be,” Remus said coldly, downing the rest of the drink and slamming the glass down on the table. 

“Only if it’s how you’re going to be,” said Sirius. “I’m not the one who’s being ridiculous.”

“You know what I am,” hissed Remus. “You know as well as I do this cannot work and it’s best if I stay well away so that she can find someone else.”

“You said that about having friends.”

“And look how that worked out for you all!”

“If you dare to blame yourself for what happened to James, then I’ll kill you myself…”

Remus stormed out into the corridor without looking, and crashed straight into Tonks. Before he could apologise and escape, she had grabbed the front of his battered jumper and pulled him through a door. The cupboard she’d pulled him into housed the various cloaks, broomsticks and hats of the Order, and a few more unsavoury looking items from the house’s period as the family home of the Blacks. Remus found himself shoved back into the cloaks, in between Mundungus’ smelly overcoat and Molly Weasley’s cobalt blue cloak. 

“You’re trying to get yourself killed,” said Tonks, without a chance for him to ask why they were in this broom cupboard. She stood next to the hat stand, arms folded and a blank expression on her face.

“First Sirius, and now you.” It didn’t answer the question, but it bought him some time while he searched for the words to explain to her what he was doing. Sirius had been more straightforward. He’d been angry with him, and Remus could be angry back and it wasn’t out of place. Tonk was calm and collected.

“You’re not denying it.”

‘I’m helping the Order. It makes sense. I’m the one doing the long missions as I’ve not got a job. You, Arthur, Bill, Minerva, Kingsley, you’d be missed if you went tracking Lucius Malfoy for days, or staking out possible hideouts, or all the other things. I won’t be, so I go. Now I’m going to go home and get some sleep, so I’ll see you at the next meeting.”

“What if I don’t? What if you die out there?”

“Then hopefully I have achieved something for the Order first.”

“You are an absolute dick, you know that.” Now for the anger. This was getting back on terms Remus could deal with.

She stepped sideways to cover the cupboard door with her body. She was smaller than Remus, but he wasn’t convinced he could push her out of the way even if he’d wanted to hurt her. Auror training would have given her strength and fast reflexes, and the full moon had been two days ago and he was still weak. He’d have to talk his way out.

A part of him didn’t want to talk it’s way out. A part of him wanted to leap at her, to kiss her and to run his hands all over the body that was blocking his way. 

He buried that part, as he had buried feelings like that many times before. Indulging feelings like that with a witch that he cared about would never end well for either of them. That much he was certain of. He needed to remain clear headed and in the moment. 

Mundungus’ coat truly did stink, so he moved away from it. Her brown eyes watched him closely as he moved. Hadn’t they been blue before, in the meeting? He couldn’t remember. The effects of the moon were still clouding his mind. But he was sure they were usually blue, the blue of the sky after a rainstorm.

He had nothing to say; he decided to try and wait it out. 

“You going to say anything?” she said, breaking the silence. “I don't know why I love you, you’re being an arse, but I do and I’m not going to watch you try and kill yourself.”

“I’m no good for you. I’m too old, too poor, and too dangerous. You can’t live a full life with me. You deserve to marry, have children, have a relationship you can tell your family and friends about without risking them shunning you forever. I cannot have those things, my kind don’t deserve them. Have you ever known a werewolf to marry? Have you? I can’t give you the life you could have with someone, anyone, else. Now let me out this cupboard before whatever Mundungus has in those pockets kills us, unless that’s your plan.”

“I don’t care about any of that, you know I don’t, I…” she stopped, lunged forward and kissed him square on the lips. A quick kiss, then her face turned away. “I just want to be with you and we can sort out the rest later.”

“We can’t,” said Remus sadly. He took advantage of there movement to slip past her, putting his hand on the door handle. “Go be free, Tonks. And please, let me do my job.”

He turned the handle and walked out the door, down the corridor and through the front door out into Muggle London.

Had he looked back, he would have seen Tonks crumple to the floor and her hands go to her face. She closed her eyes, silent tears falling down her cheeks. Minerva McGonagall would find her there fifteen minutes later when she went to retrieve her cloak, and would take her along to Molly Weasley for some tea and a Calming Draught. 

He couldn’t look back, as it he had needed every step of resolve he had to leave the first time.


	3. The Cottage on the Moors

The cottage had the damp smell of a house that wasn’t particularly well cared for. Remus stumbled in. He’d been awake for 64 hours in a row and was unable to remember where half of his stuff was or even which room each doorway lead to. He found the bathroom, relieved himself, and after a failed attempt to reach his bedroom collapsed onto the sofa and passed out.

The sofa was an old one, marked with a pattern reminiscent of a Persian rug, and had seen many a better day. Three cushions sat on it, all bunched at one end. The room had little furniture aside from the sofa. There was a battered metal and wood coffee table, on which sat an old brown radio. A large wooden mantle over the fireplace, which contained three pictures. 

The pictures were the only personal touch in the entire cottage. Two showed the same four wizards, one tall with brown hair, one tall with black hair and glasses, a slightly shorter black-haired wizard and a small, sandy-haired one. Remus didn’t have many photographs of himself and his friends, just the one from the end of second year and the one from the end of seventh displayed here. He’d given the rest to Hagrid for Harry a few years before.

The third photograph was of Remus and his parents. His mother was dead now; cancer. She had been a Muggle, and had died of a Muggle illness. Magic had been unable to help.

His dad was still alive, but Remus preferred not to bother him too much. He knew his dad liked to see him. But he also knew his dad’s life was easier without a werewolf in it, even if that werewolf was his son.

Some hours later, the sun rose onto the photographs. It passed through the threadbare curtains and cast its light onto Remus’ sleeping form. He stirred. He grunted, rolled, and picked up a cushion to slap it over his face and block out the light. All it did was send up a spiral of dust, and push more dust down into his face.

He made a noise somewhere between a grunt and a sigh, and flopped from the sofa to the floor before raising himself to his feet. He stumbled to the kitchen, made a half-motion to grab a glass from a cupboard, but instead stuck his head under the tap to combine a drink and a splashing of cold water onto his face.

Remus straightened up. Food. He needed food. A loaf of bread was on the counter, and he tore into a chunk without another thought.

He’d been tracking Lucius Malfoy for a month, on and off, interspersed with raids and ambushes and whatever else he was able to get himself in on. He’d sustained seven injuries, including three broken bones and some pretty serious curse damage to his left leg. The last mission, the night before last, had lead straight into a full moon and then an Order meeting. Even after what he thought was ten hours of sleep he could feel the impact of the last few months on his body with every movement.

Remus would need to inspect himself for full moon damage. He thought he could feel a deep cut across his back, and that might need seeing to. No point letting it fester. Another raid on a suspected Death Eater hideout was planned for the night after next, and he intended to be on it.

He would also at some point need to fix the broken cottage roof. 

It had been broken for many years, and Remus had never had the time or the energy to work out the charms or transfigurations that would fix it. He’d bought this cottage many years ago with a small inheritance, somewhere he could go back to when jobs inevitably failed him and he was left without employment once more. It had been the cottage that Albs Dumbledore had found him in to offer him the job as Defence Against the Dark Arts professor at Hogwarts, and it had been the cottage he’d returned to after his lycanthropy had been revealed by Severus Snape.

It held both good memories and bad, but on the whole the bad. 

But Remus had learnt a long time ago that dwelling on the past was certainly not going to change it, and he had things to do. For starters, several of the pains in his body were getting worse. He peeled his robes off over his head for a better look.

The cut on his arm from the raid last week hadn’t healed. He would have to try and get some dittany from somewhere and see if that helped. He should have asked Molly at the Order meeting, but he hadn’t wanted to stay at Grimmauld Place too long. Too many people he had no desire to talk to. They’d just have had complaints about him. 

Maybe he’d Floo her at The Burrow later on, if he had any Floo Powder left. 

On the positive side, the cut across his back wasn’t as deep as he’d thought. With the help of a mirror, he was able to give it a careful clean. He thought it would heal within a few days. He was usually right, as he had years of experience at working out how badly he’d injured himself. Back before he’d realised how limited his career options would be, he’d considered becoming a Healer to make use of that knowledge. 

Maybe he’d put off asking Molly about the dittany for a bit longer, in case he needed it for this one as well.

As he was examining a graze on the back of his leg, he heard a small ‘pop’ from behind him. Used to battle, he spun around with his wand outstretched, eyes casting around for the attacker. It was several seconds before he realised that the noise had been Tonks’ head appearing in the fireplace behind him. 

“Hey, Remus.”

“Tonks.” He crouched down to see her face better - it was after all more polite to allow the person in the Floo to see your face and not just your legs. It was the first time he had looked at her properly in at least two months, he realised, since the incident outside Yaxley’s house. She looked older, even though not much time had passed. Her eyes were a dull brown, with worry lines etched into the pale skin around them.

“Er, Remus. Your robes.”

Shit, shit, a thousand time shit. Having been inspecting his wounds, he’d forgotten that he’d taken his robes off to do so. They were in a puddle on the floor a few feet away. He grabbed them and threw them on in a hurry, tangling himself in them and very nearly ending up with two arms through the same sleeve.

“Your back is hurt,” she said after he was safely clothed again. 

“Full moon,” he replied, rubbing it more as a reflex than through any real pain. “It’s nothing I’ve not had before.”

Her face didn’t look convinced. “Anyway, Remus, the raid on the warehouse in Glasgow has been brought forward to tonight. Snape reckons they think we know about it so they’ll probably be making efforts to secure it unless we get there soon. Can you Apparate to the point we agreed tonight, at the time agreed?”

“I can,” he said. 

She disappeared back into the fire. He watched the flames burn for a full two minutes before he was able to straighten up and continue preparing for the raid.

Lunch. Fix the rip in his robes. Check wounds again. A nap if possible, and an early dinner. Then onwards to the next fight.


	4. Hillside Sheep

With a loud crack, Remus appeared on the Welsh hillside they’d agreed as the meeting place, a little more than half a mile from their destination. He was the first one to arrive. Wand slightly raised, he began to check his surroundings; everything appeared to be as it should be. Not far from him a group of sheep grazed in the gathering darkness, and more dotted the hills around him. Low rambling walls criss-crossed the countryside, mostly converging on a farmhouse down in a valley below. Remus hoped the Muggle farmers would be kept out of tonight’s activities. 

Their destination was in the other direction from the farmhouse, a low barn. The skies were clear, a rarity in Wales, apart from a tuft of dark-grey cloud surrounding the skies above the barn. Remus knew, as well as he knew what a sheep was, that the cloud was not natural and it was not harmless.

Most people would not be able to see the building, thanks to the Fidelius Charm that had been cast on it. But Voldemort had not chosen the Secret Keeper wisely, and Severus Snape had been able to persuade the unfortunate Death Eater in question to reveal the location. Remus hadn’t asked how, and he hadn’t wanted to know. He’d just read the piece of paper with the secret on it, and tried not to think about Severus’ methods. The man might be an Order member, but he had been a Death Eater first.

One of the sheep had wandered close to him, and without really thinking about it he reached down to feel the woolly coat. He guessed the sheep was unable to sense his werewolf nature, or it would be nowhere near him. Several times, Remus had awoken after the full moon with a vague memory of attacking a sheep. He was sure he’d brought down a cow once, in his wolfish form. 

Never a human. That was Remus’ worst fear. He did not want to be a killer, not another dangerous werewolf who killed humans.

A crack behind him, and Kingsley Shacklebolt appeared. He nodded to Remus. 

“Just you?” asked Kingsley. 

“So far,” Remus replied. “Well, me and my fluffy friends here.”

“You seem to have an affinity with them. I suppose you would.”

Remus froze, his hand still in the sheep’s wool. They all did know he was a beast. A moment later he realised what Kingsley meant, the wizard knew that his mother had been Welsh. It was a joke, at his expense, but kindly meant. This was possibly the first time since his school days with Sirius, James and Peter he realised. And one time with Tonks making fun of his charm-casting… but no. That was not a thing to be remembering now.

“Well, you know, animals of my forefathers… foremothers…” He was saved from his useless floundering for a response by another crack behind him, followed by a loud ‘baaaa’ and a thump.

Tonks was on the floor, and a sheep was trotting away from her. Remus’ sheep took a look at the scene and decided to follow its friend.

“Sorry,” he said, unsure of why. 

“I didn’t realise they would do your bidding,” said Kingsley, clearly amused by the whole scene.

“Welsh things,” said Remus, lamely. “Want help?” He offered Tonks his hand. 

She reached up to him, then quickly withdrew her hand. “Sheep shit. Scourgify. Er, Scourfigy!” There was marginally less sheep poo on her hand. “Never been much cop at these household spells.”

“Hang on.” Remus grabbed her wrist and pointed his own wand at her hand. “Scourgify. There.” 

They both looked at her hand, and it was a few moments before he realised he was still holding onto her wrist, and had been for far too long now. He wondered briefly if she might not have noticed - but it was her wrist, of course she had.

Crack. Arthur Weasley appeared next to them.

“Sorry, not been waiting for me long have you? Got held up at the Ministry, dealing with a load more of those Metamorphic Medals, some idiot has been hawking them actually inside the Ministry…”

He looked around at the strange scene before him; Tonks on the floor on a muddy field next to a pile of sheep poo, Remus clutching her wrist with his wand out, and Kingsley pretending to intently study his wand.

“Remus has been showing us the wonders of his homeland,” said Kingsley drily. He was clearly finding all of this very funny, Remus realised, and it wasn’t.

After a recap of the plan, and the casting of a few protective and stealth charms, the group set off down the hill towards the barn. Kingsley lead the group, as a senior Auror, and Arthur took up the rear keeping watch behind them. The plan was simple; get in, find out why this place was so important to the Death Eaters, destroy anything dangerous if possible, and get out without being noticed.

Simple, but not necessarily easy.

A previous scouting mission carried out by Arthur and Kingsley suggested that there was one door to the building, guarded by a Death Eater and along with the windows warded with protective enchantments. Many of the enchantments were common, but some the two experienced wizards had been unable to identify and were almost certainly dark in nature. 

The roof, however, appeared to be free of enchantments. 

Kingsley was to carry out stage one of the attack. He had got a near-perfect score in the Stealth and Tracking stage of his Auror training, and so was assigned to creep up on the guard and silently Stun him. They would need to get the angle exactly right, as the protective enchantments were laced in such a way that for him to fall onto one would have set off an alarm. The team had no idea where such an alarm would be sounded, but they knew from previous raids it would summon a large quantity of Death Eaters very quickly. Last time that had happened, several Order members had been badly injured.

Remus spotted for him, while Tonks and Arthur were to remain back and prepare for stage two.

As ever, Kingsley’s aim was perfect and his non-verbal Stunning Spell knocked the Death Eater over and unconscious. Behind him, Remus silently bound the man with ropes from his wand as a second line of defence, in case for some reason Kingsley’s spell failed, and Kingsley summoned his wand. All of this was done silently and at a distance - they had no desire to get any closer and risk triggering an alarm.

In the cover of a small copse of trees near the side of the barn, Arthur was pulling broomsticks from his rucksack as Remus and Kingsley returned to the other two. Despite the charm being illegal for unsupervised use, Arthur Weasley had always had a love of the Undetectable Extension Charm. Remus had heard the rumours about that Ford Anglia he’d owned, and he believed all of them.

Tonks was already on a broom, floating a few feet off the air. Remus grabbed his rather battered broomstick and swung his leg over. He’d owned it since his fifth year at Hogwarts. It had been a Christmas present from his parents. Arthur’s broom looked to be a similar age, while Tonks and Kingsley both rode newer models. 

A nod from Arthur, and the four rose up together on their brooms, arcing towards the roof of the building. Each brought their brooms to a stop above it, hovering a few inches off the roof. 

“Now remember,” said Kingsley. “We don’t think this part is warded, but it could be. If the alarm sounds, we fly as fast as we can for cover, and if possible we dismount to Apparate away. Anything goes wrong, reconvene at my place. Remus, sound the alarm to Dumbledore if I don’t make it back.”

“Shouldn’t I jump?” Remus asked. “The Muggles will notice you missing.” And there’s nobody to notice me missing, was the bit he didn’t say.

“And, no offence Remus, but I’m a trained Auror. It was settled yesterday.” It had been. Tonks and Kingsley had outvoted him on that matter after Arthur had left to go to work.

Kingsley jumped, leaping from his broom onto the corrugated iron of the roof. Nothing happened. Tonks let out the tiniest whoop.

Tonks’ combat boots were next to hit the roof, followed by Arthur’s brown shoes. Remus followed, drawing his wand. 

“Diffindo,” he muttered, crouching down to concentrate on directing his spell. Soon, a neat hole was forming in the roof of the barn. The cut away part was being neatly folded back by Arthur. Soon, there was a gaping hole large enough to fit all four Order members through at once, although caution would mean they'd go separately. 

“Ready?” 

Kingsley nodded and jumped. Everyone else peered into the hole. Whatever was down there, the room was being kept in darkness and it was impossible to see whether the wizard had landed safely. 

“Do you think he’s…” began Tonks, before out of the gloom came Kingsley’s signal, the green sparks from his wand that indicated everything was okay.

This time Remus was second to jump, casting a Cushioning Charm as he flew through the air. It was a surprisingly long drop, given that the building hadn’t appeared tall from the outside. Remus guessed the Death Eaters had dug down into the earth, but why? 

Landing, his eyes took a moment to adjust to the murky light. Kingsley stood in the centre of the room, a conjured light hanging next to his raised wand. Remus heard the soft sounds of Arthur and Tonks hitting the floor next to them, and all four Order members turned to face out, their backs together, conjuring lights to match Kingsley’s. 

They surveyed the room. It was small, much smaller than the size of the barn in total, with two wooden doors leading out of it. Aside from that, the only other thing in the room was a plant covering three of the walls. 

“Devils’ Snare,” said Tonks, edging towards it. “We’re going to have to be careful opening those doors.”

“Alright,” said Kingsley. “Arthur, Tonks, cast flames at the Devil’s Snare as I try a door. Remus, follow me if you can. I’m going to go for that one first.”

The others nodded. Tonks and Arthur took up positions on either side of the door, ready to repel the plant’s waving tendrils. It looked innocent enough, but the Devil’s Snare would try to strangle any of them who touched it. They’d also learnt from previous missions that the Death Eaters could rig almost anything to sound an alarm and reveal their presence.

However, this time no alarm sounded and Remus and Kingsley were on the other side of the door. This side was clear of any obvious plants or traps. Remus had learnt to check that before allowing doors to close. Once he was sure they had an exit, he turned his attention to the rest of the room. 

A noise came from Kingsley, a sharp intake of breath. Remus soon realised why. 

Bodies. Hundreds of presumably dead bodies were piled up in the room. 

They’d been done neatly, not chucked in a pile. Bunk bed type structures, somewhere between beds and shelves, had been constructed as far back as Remus could see and all the way up to the ceiling. All of them were filled with bodies. There would be thousands in the cavernous room, all stacked and ready and waiting as if they were being kept for future use.

And then he realised that of course they were.

They were Inferi. Lord Voldemort had them waiting for his command.

Remus walked forwards. Touching one would almost certainly be a terrible idea, but he wanted a closer look. Next to him, Kingsley advanced too, his magical light keeping pace. 

“Inferi,”said Remus. Kingsley nodded, they’d reached the same conclusion.

All of the bodies were unkempt, but as though they had been like that in life not made that way by the Death Eaters. They all bore the unmistakeable signs of having had a hard life. Many of them, like Remus, had tatty clothes and scars or recent injuries. 

The nearest one was tall with broad shoulders, and could have been powerful once. Clear signs of underfeeding and years of neglecting himself had taken it’s toll on the body, though. He was wearing Muggle clothes, jeans and a shirt, both muddy and ripped. 

Last time around, Lord Voldemort had used Inferi against a variety of targets, and they hadn’t been seen yet in this war. Because they were here, waiting for the time when he would need them.

“What do you think?” asked Kingsley. He was next to the body of an older-looking woman, tiny with wrinkles on her face and rough, sand coloured hair.

“We have to destroy them.”

“That will alert Voldemort, I’m sure of it.” Kingsley’s slow, confident voice had the slightest of wavers to it. This more than anything else demonstrated the danger of this situation, Remus realised.

“We go back to Arthur and Tonks, let them know, and check out the second room,” Remus said quietly, as if the Inferi could hear them. “We prepare our escape route. We destroy them with fire.”

“It’s exceptionally dangerous. But it might be our only plan. But I would imagine there are anti-fire spells on this place. I would have thought of that, were I our enemy.”

“Then we use Fiendfyre.”

Kingsley was considering this. Remus knew none of their group had ever cast that curse before. All were strong enough wizards to and had cast spells of its equal. But if any of them were strong enough to control it, he didn’t know.

“It’s Dark Magic, Remus. Against Dark creatures, yes, so justifiable. But only if all else fails,” said Kingsley finally. Ever the pragmatist, Kingsley prided himself on using exactly the necessary amount of power and force, no more and no less. “And first we find the others.”

They checked the second room. Objectively, Remus knew it was less dangerous than the Inferi-filled first chamber as there was nothing that could be used to harm them. That room, however, was clearly designed as some kind of processing chamber. Remus felt himself recoil physically from entering the room. Arthur, who had entered it with him, was fighting back the urge to heave. They checked it quickly, not wanting to remain longer than was necessary, and checked the additional room off it which turned out to be a small bathroom for the use of Death Eaters when manning the facility. 

“The poor Muggles,” said Arthur. It was all anyone could say.

Kingsley broke the silence. “We need to get out of here as quickly as possible. We’ll need one to fly up out of the roof to keep watch, and alert us in case any Death Eaters are summoned. One to ensure the door remains open between the Inferi and our exit. Two to cast the fire spells and ensure all the Inferi are destroyed. As many of us as possible need to get back to the rendezvous point. We should be prepared to leave quickly.”

Remus knew what that meant. It meant ‘abandon your friends if you have to’. 

That was not a standard rule on Order missions. Generally, they protected each other at every point. But some called for escape, when they were of a type where someone needed to return to tell the tale. The ones where there was a risk of failure or capture.

“I’ll cast the flames,” said Remus.

“If he’s doing it, I am,” said Tonks. Remus realised this was the first time he had heard her speak since they entered the barn.

“You can’t,” he said automatically.

“Why not? I’m a trained Auror, more than you are,” she replied angrily. 

“Everyone is equal here,” said Kingsley’s calming voice. “Tonks, Remus, I’ll hold the door for you. Arthur, you’ll keep watch. Have you got the broomsticks in your rucksack again?” 

Arthur handed out the brooms before flying away to take his place as watchman. Kingsley took up position in the doorway, casting flames to keep back the plant. Tonks and Remus stood next to one another, wands raised.

“Ready?” she asked. The anger that had been in her eyes minutes before had gone, replaced by a look of determination.

“You’re the bravest Hufflepuff I’ve ever met,” Remus said. “Ready. Incindio!”

She cast the same spell next to him, and the nearest set of bunks were on fire. Remus felt a pang for all the Muggles whose bodies they were destroying. They had been dead weeks, months in some cases he was sure, but it was the finality of their actions. And yet they had to. These were no longer people, but weapons.

“It’s not working!” shouted Tonks, stepping closer to the fire. “They’re moving away from it! Incendio! Incendio!”

She was right. The Inferi were moving, and then came the noise. An alarm. The Death Eaters knew they were there.

“Remus, come on, they’re coming!”

“No, go! I have to finish this!” He steadied himself and focused his mind on his wand, and away from the sensation of Tonks pulling the sleeve of his robe.

“We have to go Remus! We won’t have long!”

He focused, and a burst of orange and gold flame shot out of his wand. It snaked up and towards the Inferi, rivers of it. A part in the centre formed a dragon, and another part a second, and still more was coming from his wand.

“REMUS!” 

Casting the spell had taken all the energy he had. His relentless Order work and the effects of the full moon, combined with the force he’d needed for the Fiendfyre spell, had made his legs feel very far away and the world start to go a little bit fuzzy around the edges.

The Death Eater he could see clearly, however.


	5. Honesty

Ah, shit.

He forced his legs to keep holding his weight. Tonks was next to him, and the Death Eater was between them and the door. Kingsley. Where was Kingsley? And something had hold of his hand. And the Death Eater was shouting something, and a spell was flying towards them.

Luckily Tonks was faster than he was, and an invisible shield sprung up in front of them to deflect the spell. She flew into the duel. He went to go and help her, but something still had hold of his wand arm and his left hand felt tingly. Maybe this was something he should do something about. But Tonks needed his help… where was his wand?

He looked down, and noticed three things all at once. His wand hand was being held by Tonks. His wand was on the floor. And his left sleeve was on fire.

Remus pulled his right hand free from Tonks, who was so busy battling the Death Eater now that she didn’t notice. Grabbing his wand, he attempted to put his sleeve out. A first few basic charms failed, and he knew he didn’t have the time to think this through and attempt anything more complicated so instead used a Severing Charm to just remove the arm. It became clear very quickly that he had also lightly severed his own arm, and there was a lot of blood, but he would have to deal with that one later.

Tonks and the Death Eater had both forgotten about him, and it seemed they had forgotten about the fire raging behind them. The Inferi were almost invisible now amongst the flames, but Remus had lost control of the curse and so the fire had also demolished most of the bed-shelving and was getting worryingly close. 

Remus had a plan. A plan that he hadn’t very much thought through, but that he didn’t have any time to work on more. In one motion, he grabbed Tonks’ hand again, cast a Stunning Spell at the Death Eater, and ran. He heard a vague thud as the Death Eater hit the ground, but he had no time to look back as they dashed through the door. 

He turned to look at Tonks back in the first room, poised to ask about the broomsticks. There was an awful lot of blood on the floor, he noticed. The room was slightly on it’s end, too. It hadn’t been that way up when he came in. 

“Remus, stay with us! Please, stay awake!”

“Tonks, the blood…”

“Can you fly? Shit, I don’t think you can fly. Shit. Remus, can you hold onto me?”

She was shouting in his face now, and he was staring at the pool of blood on the floor. There really was an awful lot of blood.

He felt Tonks pull him onto a broom, and put his arms around her waist. It was soft and warm. Comforting. The broom jerked upwards, struggling under the weight of the two people. She really did feel so soft. Oh, and the blood was following them up into the sky.

Outside, Arthur and Kingsley were in the air battling three Death Eaters. Tonks, making the most of the element of surprise she had, hexed two in quick succession causing them to fall from their brooms. Arthur swooped down to ensure they were Stunned, while Kingsley managed to get the third down to ground level. Tonks swooped to land beside Arthur with a jerk.

“Tonks! You made it! But Remus, Merlin’s beard, what happened to Remus?”

“I’m fine,” Remus said, with what he thought was a reassuring look. “Someone is bleeding, though.”

“Shit, we’re going to have to get him to someone fast. Grimmauld Place? Do you think he’s strong enough to Apparate?”

Kingsley marched up to them, levitating the third Death Eater ahead of him Stunned and bound. 

“Alright?” he said, before catching sight of the state of Remus. He was now lying on the grass in a puddle of blood, muttering protestations that he was absolutely fine. The stars were dancing, and the features on Kingsley’s face were rearranging themselves whenever he looked at him.

“Okay,” said Arthur, taking charge. “Kingsley, can you handle these Death Eaters alone? They’ll know we’ve been here by the fire” he gestured over to the building, which was now firmly on fire. “But I think it’s best they don’t know which Order members were involved or exactly what happened.”

“I’ll modify their memories and leave them here,” said Kinsgley. “They all look to be junior, and I’m sure someone will come along to check on them when they don’t report back.”

“Tonks, we’d best get Remus back to Grimmauld Place.”

Remus passed out.

He came to with the sound of voices somewhere out of his line of sight. 

“Severus is on his way, Molly, how is he doing?”

“Stable. I’ve stemmed the flow of blood from his arm, heaven knows how he got that injury. I’ve put a basic burns salve on his hand. I’m not sure how much that will do, it’s not a burn I’ve ever seen before and it may well be Dark Magic. We’ll need to wait for Severus to know more. Have you checked in on Tonks?”

“She’s fine, Molly. A small cut, she’s going to come down to you for a look at it when she’s washed and changed.”

“Poor Remus. Tonks said he had some horrible cuts on his back the other day, before all of this even. I’ve half a mind to talk to Albus about him. I don’t know what to do, the man is driving himself into an early grave.”

“I’ll talk to him.”

The last one was Sirius’ voice. Remus tried to turn his head, but Molly, Arthur and Sirius must be outside the room he was in as there was no sight of any of them.

“Sirius, dear, do you think that is wise? You’ve been shouting at him an awful lot lately, and I don’t know if he can cope with that right now.” 

“I won’t shout Molly, I promise.”

“Let me go and see if he’s awake. Arthur, can you get hold of Alastor? I was supposed to be taking over guard duty, but I think I had better stay here with Remus, at least until Severus arrives.”

Molly Weasley bustled into the room. She had useful items spilling out of her arms; Remus could see bandages, Dittany and burn salve amongst a range of other things. She was still issuing instructions to Arthur and Sirius out in the hallway as she walked, turning to face Remus only just before she arrived by the bed.

“Ah, you’re awake. Good. Now. Where hurts? I’ve got your left arm covered for now, but is there anything else?”

He submitted to her fussing. All of the Order members unlucky enough to get themselves hurt on a mission had learnt to accept it. She was remarkably good at Healing for someone without any formal training, and Remus was certain her skills had got them out of having to explain some very awkward things to St Mungos. They had agreed to keep Order-related injuries well away from the magical hospital where possible. So far, only Arthur had needed admission after the snake bite.

“Mr Lupin, I see you’ve got yourself into another scrape.”

Severus Snape stood in the doorway, his usual black robes lightly dusted with ash from using the Floo. Molly paused in checking Remus’ temperature.

“Oh, thank you for coming so urgently, Severus. Remus has some kind of magical burn on his hand, let me unwrap it for you. I’ve used a basic burn salve, but it’s clearly a magical burn in nature, Tonks says likely cause by Fiendfyre…”

“Thank you Molly, I will take it from here.”

Molly Weasley retreated from her patient, but only as far as the armchair near the back of the room. She understood enough of Remus and Severus’ history to be reluctant to leave them alone together. Normally, Remus would have been irritated with that. He got on well enough with Severus as an adult, they could be civil to one another at any rate. Sirius was a different matter. Today, however, he was grateful. Whatever else you could say about Molly, she wouldn’t let any harm come to an injured Order member.

“Fiendfyre is an incredibly dangerous spell, Lupin. What on earth were you thinking? I’m going to need to treat this daily for the next few weeks. And I would thank you not to cast that spell ever again if you cannot control it.”

“Voldemort had an army of Inferi, Severus, and you likely know that. They needed to be destroyed.”

“Next time, please try not to destroy yourself in the process.”

Remus decided not to say anything. Severus was incredibly competent with curse damage, but his bedside manner left a lot to be desired. Any more sarcastic comments were unneeded. Instead he chose to watch Severus work. He was running his wand up and down Remus’ bare arm, muttering incantations under his breath. It was strangely hypnotic. 

Remus drifted back into unconsciousness to the sounds of the muttering and of Molly Weasley rearranging her first aid supplies.

* * * * * *

What felt like moments later, he awoke in a shower of sunshine in the bedroom he’d adopted at Grimmauld Place. The house was better than it had once been, but dust particles still danced around in the light and the clock over the fireplace in his room still bore traces of a dark magic. It was in the queue to be dealt with. 

By the looks of the light, it was early afternoon. Remus could remember patches of the last two days; the mission to Wales, his injury, Severus and Molly treating it. That had been early afternoon yesterday, though, and he remembered little after that. 

“Awake, then?”

Sirius Black was sat beside his bed, a book open in front of him. He had adopted a nonchalant pose, one foot up in the chair with him as he reclined back into it, but there were clear lines of worry for his friend on his face. 

“How long?”

“You’ve been asleep for a day, mate.”

“Tonks?”

“She’s fine. She was a bit cut up, rescuing you, but Molly fixed her up and she’s at work now.”

“Good.”

“Look, Remus. I offered to talk you you as once again it seems like the whole Order think you’re trying to kill yourself. I told them you weren’t, to pacify Molly, but I think they might be right.”

“Sirius, let’s not argue about this again. I don’t want to fight with you.”

“I’m not fighting this time, Remus. I know I shouted at you before but that wasn’t the right way to do it. We’re all just worried about you.”

“I’m fine.”

“You had cuts everywhere, a burn, and all the signs of exhaustion. That’s Molly’s diagnosis, anyway. She’s the expert. I know you want to be useful, but you won’t be soon if you keep getting yourself hurt.”

“What would you want me to do?”

“Take a week off missions, and get yourself back up to strength. Then you’ll be some use on the next one rather than needing Tonks to rescue you.”

That was a low blow. Remus could feel the anger rising in him. He let out a soft growl, which made him more angry. This time with himself. The wolfish traits must be buried deep, and he must never let them come out.

“I destroyed the Inferi, I killed a Death Eater, which is a damn sight more use than you have been lately.”

Sirius stood up. He was a powerful man in his prime, and could be still. Near-starvation in Azkaban and on the run, and a lack of physical exercise cooped up in Grimmauld Place for a year made him less impressive. He was still not someone you would want to fight.

“Remus, please. I don’t want to be here. I’d much rather be out there with you.”

Remus wasn’t sure what it was that calmed him. Maybe it was the puppy-dog look of sadness in Sirius’ eyes, or the sudden realisation that he, Remus John Lupin, had killed a man. He’d been trying to avoid harming or killing someone ever since he became aware of his werewolf nature, and now he had.

“I killed someone, Padfoot. What do I do?”

“You do what I did when I thought I had killed Peter. You regret it every day. But you can’t let it define you.”

“You’re not actually a murderer, though. Peter is alive.”

“And he shouldn’t be. Neither should this guy.”

“Sirius, I don’t even know his name.”

“And that might be for the best. Otherwise, knowing what you’re like, you’d have been going off and trying to apologise to his family or some pointless show of righteousness and that is not what we need now. Mad-Eye’s killed a man. Bet Dumbledore has. And anyway, you didn’t kill him, you didn’t prevent him from dying which is entirely different.”

“I was responsible for him dying!”

“Moony, calm it. It doesn’t change how I think of you. I don’t think it changes how anyone else thinks of you. Besides, don’t you want to be useful for the Order?”

Having his own words thrown back at him hurt.

“Good,” continued Sirius. “Now shut up and listen to me. If you want to be at all useful, then you’re going to need to pay some attention to what Molly has to say about your health, and what the rest of us have to say too. You really do need to take that time off. A phrase I heard used the other day by a certain Metamorphmagus amongst us was ‘he needs to sort his shit out’ and it’s a phrase I think is very apt here. I like it too, I’m going to use it again.”

“I don’t want to talk about Tonks.” It was easier to ignore the rest of what Sirius had said. 

“I’m not going to talk to you about Tonks,” said Sirius, “because there’s no bloody point. You’re not going to listen to anyone on that. Also, you know I’m not one for gossiping about other people’s love lives. And anyway, as I told Molly, it’s none of anyone else’s business who you want to see or marry or fuck. She needs to stop sticking her beak in.”

Remus felt slightly grateful for that. It didn’t exactly make up for everything else Sirius had said, but it was a start. And, perhaps some of what his old friend had been true. Maybe he didn’t need to do everything all at once, as long as he didn’t have to hang around Headquarters or his own cottage doing nothing.

Not that he’d say that now. Sirius was doing just that, and was hating every minute. He’d already been rude enough to Sirius. Oh god. What would have happened if he’d died, and the last thing Sirius had heard from him had been horrible shouting? He’d called his friend useless just a few minutes ago. 

“Look, Sirius, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said you weren’t any use, and I shouldn’t have shouted at you before.”

“Yeah, too right you shouldn’t. I forgive you, old friend. Does funny things to people this not-quite war, I’m not sure any of us are acting ourselves lately. Like last time.”

That much was true. Everywhere Remus went amongst other wizards, there was a sense of unease and nervousness. It was the same as in the last war. People were panicking. Three families he knew of had left the country; they had family connections elsewhere and had decided those places were safer now than wizarding Britain. He suspected a couple of people he knew had gone to ground in Muggle communities.

Others were pairing off at alarming speeds. This had happened the last time Voldemort had risen, and those who had been around at the time remembered it happening when Grindelwald was gaining prominence too. James and Lily had been one of those pairs, and Molly and Arthur. Perhaps those two sets would have happened anyway, but they were certainly speeded along by the sense of impending doom they all had felt at the time. He hadn’t known Arthur and Molly then, but he knew that was true of James and Lily. 

There had been others too, Stephen Harrison with that Ravenclaw girl Mandy, Artemis his friend from the year below with John Pike, a Muggleborn wizard in his year, Elph and Sollie Halberd the inseparable Gryffindors who’d married two days after they left Howarts. Rumour had been that Sollie had got pregnant during NEWTs week in the library. 

“Do you remember Sollie Halberd? Do you think Elph really got her pregnant while most of us were sitting Charms NEWT?”

If Sirius thought it was odd that he would ask that question now, he didn’t show it. Perhaps he’d been on his own trip down memory lane, thinking about all the people they’d known in and before the last war. Many of them were dead, a few Death Eaters, a few disappeared. Remus had never followed the fates of most of his classmates that had survived the war.

“I don’t think so,” Sirius said. “James and Peter both absolutely believed it though.”

“I always doubted that story too,” said Remus. “Simple biological facts suggested that the baby was conceived well after they married, either that or she was pregnant a very long time.”

“That is typically you, basing your beliefs on book learning and fact. And typical James, liking a good story over and above any proper facts. Peter always did copy James.”

Avoiding the obvious ‘except in his reaction to Voldemort’, Remus thought.

“And what about you?”

“I bragged too much at school, and listened to James bragging too much, to take anything that sounded like a bloke bigging himself up too seriously.”

“You two were something else.”

They really had been. Remus could picture the two of them now, stuck at eighteen years old forever in his memory, just before they all left Hogwarts. Two black-haired men, Gryffindors, both prone to bragging and overconfidence, but that was where the similarities had ended. James’ confidence had been natural, a product of his upbringing. Sirius’ had always seemed forced, as if it was an exterior that might crack at any moment.

The Sirius sat in the opulent green velvet armchair next to him was what was left when that crack had happened. The handsome face had lost it’s easy smile, and the hair was less teenage carelessness and more just rough and uncared for. His casual pose was still there, but with an edge of nervousness to it. He never looked fully relaxed. Perhaps not since Hogwarts.

Things had gone awry for the Marauders almost the minute they stepped out of the castle doors on that sunny July day. They should have left full of promise. James, Sirius and Remus each held six excellent NEWT scores, Peter five respectable ones. Without war, Remus’ three best friends would likely have got good jobs, got married and had children. Remus was unlikely to have had that even without war, but he was never going to have. A Hogwarts education was supposed to be as good as it got for him, but it wasn’t supposed to have been for them.

“What do you reckon James would have made of all this?” Sirius asked. His eyes were slightly damp. Again, Remus suspected his friend’s thoughts had not been so far from his own.

“I think he’d have wanted us all to be out there fighting it as much as we could. Reckon he’d tell you to ignore Albus and Molly and everyone else and get out there fighting too. Not that I agree with that.” Remus shot a look at his friend, who he could tell had been about to jump on that statement. “I reckon he’d be livid we were working with Snape now. He’d not have wanted us to have killed Peter in the Shrieking Shack two years ago, but he’d be damn angry with us for having forgotten about the full moon when we left. He’d be proud of Harry.”

“I think he’d be proud of you, too. He’d probably think I was an idiot. Got set up by Peter, spent twelve years in Azkaban, failed to help his son much, stuck in a house.”

Remus shook his head. “I’m just doing what I’m meant to be. And you probably were stupid going after Peter, but I don’t think any of us could have stopped you. I’d probably have done the same thing if I hadn’t been out of contact.”

“Yeah, except you would have chased me down.”

“Why didn’t you trust me, back then?” 

Sirius looked at Remus, for a moment with a challenging stare and then with a great deal of sadness. When he answered, his eyes went back to his book.

“I didn’t really trust anyone. James, obviously. He was like my brother. Lily, mostly. Dumbledore, mostly. Peter… well I thought he was too in thrall to me and James to ever go anywhere else. I trusted him, because I didn’t think he had anything else going on in his life except us. He hadn’t in his school years. Anyway. You were there less and less, and I guess I just stopped trusting anyone that I didn’t know where they were most of the time. You remember it, you know what it was like. Everyone stopped trusting everyone else. Hell, James was convinced Frank Longbottom was a spy at one point and the man was as loyal as they come without being a Hufflepuff.”

Both of them sat in silence for a moment. Sirius’ grey eyes were wet with tears. Remus hadn’t seen him cry since the night in sixth year he’d got an owl from his parents disowning him.

“James never doubted you though, Remus. Not for a minute. He told me to fuck off whenever I said you were the spy. He agreed not to tell you about the Secret Keeper switch, but I know he thought you were with us all along.”

Tears were forming in Remus’ eyes now. One escaped to roll down his thin nose.

“Please don’t go out there and get yourself killed, Remus. I’ve already lost you once, I can’t lose my last friend again. I’m not anywhere near the man I was, I can’t cope with any more people dying on me.”

Despite imagining Molly Weasley’s likely anger if her patient was out of bed, Remus raised himself slowly and carefully to give his old friend a hug. Perhaps he did need to rein in the amount of missions, just a little bit. Maybe someone would miss him after all.

“Do we hug now?” asked Sirius.

“It’s the 1990s, men are supposed to be in touch with their emotions now.”

“If you’ve been reading Molly’s copy of Witch Weekly again, I’ll cut your balls off.”

“Now there’s the Sirius I knew at school.”


	6. A Call to Wands

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote several versions of this chapter, playing around with what Order members knew about Voldemort’s plans and the Hall of Prophecy. I assumed that some of them at least would know that there was a prophecy, including Remus and Sirius, due to the first war. I also assumed that most of them would know that Voldemort wanted that in particular; they definitely knew more than Harry did about what he wanted anyway as Molly Weasley stops Sirius from telling them. However I couldn’t find any canon evidence that any Order members besides Dumbledore knew that Voldemort was likely to lure Harry there or even exactly how retrieving prophecies work. 
> 
> In the end I decided that I didn’t think Dumbledore would have widely shared his opinion that Harry would be lured there. He’s shown to be a secretive man and I think he’d have (probably rightfully!) assumed that if he gave that information to Sirius, Remus or some of the others they would try to pass it on to Harry to protect him. Therefore in this tale none of the Order members know that, and are working on the premise that this is something Harry is not involved in.
> 
> Let me know what you think, I’m really not that sure about this chapter!

There was a small amount of balance restored to Remus’ life after his injury at the barn and his discussion with Sirius. He had, for once, taken the time to heal up before taking on any more missions. This was much to the surprise of many of the other members of the Order. Remus, in his turn, was surprised by how much they were all surprised. 

He’d managed to have a civil conversation with Tonks, too, their first since the night outside Yaxley’s house. He had been worried it would be seen as leading her on, but Sirius had persuaded him to stop ‘being so bloody rude’. As his friend had put it so eloquently. He and Tonks had been friends before the whole reveal of feelings thing, good friends. He wanted to be friends again.

There were small, regular weekly gatherings at Grimmauld Place now, in addition to the Order meetings. Remus had begun to attend them, sometimes. He’d still rather have been out doing something. Sirius, however, had made it clear that his friend’s presence was very much appreciated. They’d not had any more discussions about feelings since the night after his injury, that wasn’t something they did. But it had been made clear to Remus anyway.

He arrived for one of these from another day of stalking out Lucius Malfoy, a job he still returned to a couple of times a week just to check in on the man. It was clear he was up to something. Albus had warned him that Voldemort wanted a prophecy from the Department of Mysteries, the one concerning Lily, James and Harry, and it had become apparent that Malfoy was involved in that plot. 

Malfoy had always been known for skulking around the Ministry. However, he had generally confined that lurking to around the heels of Cornelius Fudge, other influential figures in the Ministers office, and a few Heads of Department. Amelia Bones, the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, never entertained Malfoy and he seemed to have all but given up on her. Others were more willing to listen to the aristocrat, despite or maybe because of the rumours of his Death Eater affiliations.

Today, Remus had been hanging around outside the in-fill Senior Undersecretary’s office on Level One of the Ministry of Magic. Lucius Malfoy had been closeted in there with a few lackeys for a couple of hours before he stalked his way out, several Ministry juniors hot on his heels. Not Percy Weasley. He might be a staunch Ministry man now, but even he seemed to draw the line at Malfoy. He dismissed them curtly before getting into the lift, giving Remus time to slip inside the lift with him. 

For the third time this week, Malfoy had taken the lift right down to the Department of Mysteries. He had got out, and walked down the corridor, through the door at the end, and straight into the Department of Mysteries itself. 

Remus hadn’t even known it was that easy. He needed to find the time to try it without Malfoy. 

Why, though? Why was it so easy for Malfoy to get into the Department of Mysteries? It was entirely possible Malfoy’s wealth and connections had bought him some kind of access that others wouldn’t have. It shouldn’t. But unfortunately Remus knew all too well that the wizarding world worked like that sometimes. Status, and blood status, opened many doors He’d experienced it himself more times than he was willing to try and count.

Remus was also unwilling to rule out use of the Imperius Curse. He’d come up against Malfoy before, in the last war. The Imperius Curse was a bit of a speciality for the Death Eater.

He was running through his discoveries about Malfoy in his brain, looking for links, as he arrived at Grimmauld Place for the gathering. He decided to ask Sirius for advice. Sometimes two minds were better than one. Sirius had some knowledge of Malfoy from when he was a proper member of the Black family and expected to attend the various pureblood society functions. 

If Kingsley, Tonks, Arthur or Mad-Eye were around, they might be able to tell him more on the protections of the Department of Mysteries too. 

Distracted, he tripped into the umbrella stand that Tonks always had trouble with and awoke the portrait of Mrs Black on arrival. Amid much screaming from Mrs Black, and curses from Remus, what seemed like half the Order came out to see who’d arrived. None of them helped him.

To a final shout of ‘filthy half-breed’, an insult Remus had always taken personally, he managed to get the curtains closed. 

“My mother was glad to see you, then!” Sirius laughed.

Remus ignored that, and made his way into the kitchen to join the others who had slowly filed back into the room now nothing interesting was happening in the hallway. He grabbed a butterbeer from the fridge. Much as he felt like he would have liked something stronger, everyone else was on the softer stuff and it was never a good idea to move onto the hard spirits too soon. He looked around for someone who’d be interested in discussing his Malfoy Mystery. 

Sirius was laughing with Fred and George Weasley, now inducted as full members of the Order of the Phoenix since they’d left school. Remus had enjoyed that story. It was a piece of magic he and his friends would have been proud to have created, and Umbridge was one of the worst examples of a witch he’d ever met. Some Order members had tended to underestimate the twins, but Remus never had. He knew they were very intelligent young men, and had occasionally tried to encourage them to apply themselves a little bit more. It had usually fallen flat. However, he had to admit they were definitely using their skills to their full abilities for the Order.

Tonks was sat with Mad-Eye Moody, looking serious. They seemed to be discussing a case. Best to leave them alone. Even if he was now able to have a short conversation with Tonks without it turning into an accusation he was killing himself on purpose, it was best not to push it too much.

Kingsley and Arthur were over by the fireplace, having a deep discussion about something. Remus decided to try them first. 

The two were about as different to look at as they could be. Kingsley, with his dark skin and dark hair, dressed in long purple wizards robes, and Arthur, pale skinned with red hair and a tatty knitted jumper and Muggle corduroy trousers. However, both of them had a lot of knowledge about how the Ministry worked. 

More than Remus, who with the exception of Order missions had tended to avoid it. Particularly the Department for Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, where he was technically supposed to register himself at the werewolf desk in the Beasts division. He’d never actually registered. He was opposed to the principle.

He walked over to join Arthur and Kingsley. Their discussion had looked important from a distance. On getting closer, Remus realised it was about Quidditch. He’d never had Arthur down as a Quidditch fan. Although, given that every Weasley child with the exception of Percy had played Quidditch for Gryffindor, perhaps he should have worked it out.

“I really don’t think the Wasps have a chance,” Kingsley was saying. “Not against the Tornados. I’ve never seen a better performance from them, they could be unbeatable this season.”

“Not the Wasps perhaps,” Arthur replied. “Maybe Puddlemere though. They really rejigged their team mid-season and their new Chaser is excellent.”

“The Tornados Seeker can get the Snitch so fast, Chasers are almost redundant. Ah, Remus, what’s your take?”

Remus knew next to nothing about Quidditch. He had watched every match when James had been on the house team at school, and ignored pretty much everything else about it. He could reel out one or two facts Ginny Weasley had taught him, but that was about as far as it went.

“About all I know is that the Cannons are useless.”

Arthur smiled. “Ginny told you to say that, didn’t she? It’s true, but I suspect she was mainly trying to irritate Ronald by getting you to say that.”

“I suspect your youngest will go far in life, Arthur,” Remus said, looking to turn the subject away from sport as quickly as possible. “I’ve got something I wanted to pick your brains about too. I’ve been tailing Lucius Malfoy lately, as you know.”

“That old creep,” said Kingsley, with an unusual amount of venom for the very calm man. “Anything we can get him for? Asking as an Auror as well as a member of the Order.”

“Unfortunately I don’t think there’s much we can get him for professionally,” said Arthur. “Merlin knows I’ve tried enough times. He’s got at least a handful of Muggle objects with some very dangerous enchantments on them, but I can’t get anything to stick. The last time, I think Fudge personally intervened.”

“I suspected that would happen,” Kingsley said. “What do you think, Remus?”

“I don't know of anything we can try and pin him for,” said Remus carefully, cautious of who was hearing. The Order generally operated on a principle of members all having a similar level of knowledge as one another, but there were some things that were best not openly broadcast especially when they didn't exactly know what was going on. “He’s been visiting the Department of Mysteries a lot, though. I think he’s likely to be involved in Voldemort’s plans in the Department. Do either of you know what the security is like down there? Should he be able to get in there with ease?”

“I doubt it,” said Arthur. His freckled nose was screwed up in worry. “I can’t get into it. Had to go down and see one of the Unspeakables recently about a Muggle telephone that… well, it was horrible… and I had to wait at the door for someone from the Department to come and collect me. Lucius doesn’t even work for the Ministry, he should have less access than me.”

Kingsley also looked concerned. “The Department of Mysteries has the most heavy protective enchantments and wards of the whole Ministry. Someone very high up would have had to have given him the permissions personally. Either an Unspeakable, or Fudge himself are the only ones with the permission. Magical Maintenance aren't even routinely allowed down there.”

Remus felt a growing sense of unease, and an urge to run straight to Albus with this knowledge. “I was able to follow him through into the Department,” he told the others. “He didn't know I was there. He's been there three times in the past week.”

They all paused for a moment, each thinking about the possible plans Malfoy might have. None of the scenarios any of them could come up with were good. Their thoughts were interrupted by laughter from the other side of the room; Sirius and Tonks were playing some kind of game that involved Sirius standing on a dining chair and which was apparently very funny.

A stab of jealousy hit Remus in the chest. No, he thought to himself, you rejected her and besides, they’re friends. And why shouldn't they be?

“I think we should take this to Albus tonight” said Arthur. “Give me an hour or so to check a few things at the Burrow, and I’ll go. I’ll take the twins, I could use their help.”

Running a hand through his hair nervously, Arthur called for the twins and set off. Kingsley and Remus watched him go in silence. Remus wished he’d gone for the stronger drink. This whole thing was going to end horribly, he could tell as much from here.

“I’ve got a bad feeling about all of this,” Kingsley said, breaking the silence. Remus nodded.

“Hey, why the long faces?” asked Tonks, sidling up to them. Sirius had disappeared from the room, and Moody was now sitting alone scribbling frantically on a piece of parchment. His magical eye was completely still and focused out the back of his head. Remus looked away quickly. He hated it when Moody’s eye did that.

“Oh, Malfoy,”

“That dick,” said Tonks conversationally. “What’s he done now?”

“More what is he going to do,” said Remus. He quickly re-hashed the previous conversation he’d had with Arthur and Kingsley for her benefit. She listened incredulously, her eyebrows disappearing further up under the slight fluffy fringe she had today the more she heard. 

“There’s no way he should be in there, none at all!” she said when Remus had finished. 

“Exactly what Arthur and I said,” Kingsley nodded. 

“What are we going to do about it?” Tonks asked. She looked ready for action now. She was agitated, shuffling her feet slightly as she spoke. Her wand hand had disappeared up her sleeve, where she usually kept her wand even when not wearing robes.

“We must follow our proper processes,” Kingsley said. “Arthur is checking our facts, to make sure the security on the Department is what we think it is. He’s alerting Dumbledore. If he has access, he may be planning an assault on the Hall of Prophecy on Voldemort’s behalf. It may be soon. It would be unwise for him to have got the permissions before he is ready to act. Even Fudge wouldn’t be able to explain away how he was getting in there.”

“You don’t think he’s talked Fudge or someone into it, then?” said Tonks, looking nervous. “He’s got it by force.”

“Imperius,” Remus said. He was certain now that Malfoy was using the Imperius Curse to get what he wanted out of Ministers, and he suspected Kingsley felt the same. 

“That’s illegal! And to use it right under the nose of the Minister, in the Ministry itself! Even Malfoy couldn’t do that!” 

“It’s sort of his speciality,” said Remus. “Back in the first war, we think he had at least twenty wizards doing his bidding under the Imperius Curse. As you know, it’s difficult to monitor illegal curses where there is a large quantity of magic happening, and nobody has ever put a higher level of monitoring on the Ministry. It would be difficult to, as the Ministry is about the only place dark magic may be performed completely legitimately in understanding the nature of or destroying Dark objects. Add that to Malfoy being incredibly good at the curse, and he will have been able to make his subject act very naturally even while under his complete control.”

“Much as I would prefer him not to be, I think Remus is right,” said Kingsley. “We had best alert all Order members in the Ministry to the high likelihood there is at least one Imperio-ed member of our staff.”

Ever practical, and always acting as soon as possible, Kingsley wordlessly cast a Patronus to relay his message with a flourish of the wand concealed in the sleeve of his red and gold robes. His spell casting always appeared effortless, if with a slight tendency towards the dramatic.

“What now?” asked Tonks. Almost for something to do, she had removed her own wand from her sleeve and was gently twisting it in her hands. If Mad-Eye hadn’t still been writing intently, he’d have blown a gasket at the sight of such unconsidered wand movements. It made even Remus slightly nervous. As if to prove him right, a flurry of purple sparks fell out of the end of Tonks’ wand, and she hurriedly replaced it into her jacket.

“We wait,” Remus said. “It would be foolish to act without Dumbledore.”

“Arthur will get my message, and can relay it on the Albus,” said Kingsley. “They should have an answer within the hour.”

“I hate sitting around when there’s stuff to do,” said Tonks. She strode to the counter and started rootling around in a cupboard for glasses. “I need a drink. Anyone else?”

“You’ve been hanging around with too many Gryffindors,” said Kingsley with a rare smile. “Our recklessness and poor impulse control is rubbing off on you.”

“I’ve always had poor impulse control,” she replied. “Ask Mum. I’d never really had that down as a particularly Gryffindor fault. Sirius, Harry and Ron have it, but you and Remus don’t, and neither does Hermione.” 

“I grew out of it, on the whole,” said Kingsley. “Remus and Hermione are unusual.”

“He really is,” said Tonks. “We wouldn’t have him any other way.” Remus felt distinctly uncomfortable as he accepted the tumbler of Firewhisky she was passing him. It was dangerously close to flirting with him. Flirting. With him. Nobody flirts with Remus Lupin. Ever. 

Kingsley was chuckling, which was highly inappropriate.

“You’ve gone red, Remus.”

Remus decided to leave the room and look for Sirius. It was the dignified response to being flirted with, and not cowardice, whatever Sirius would have to say on the subject. Not that he would tell Sirius. That would have just end in him laughing at Remus. Like Kingsley just had. 

He’d started stepping towards the doorway of the kitchen when Sirius ran through it, eyes and hair wild. 

“Harry,” he choked out. “Harry has gone to the Department of Mysteries. Voldemort has lured him there.”

Remus dropped his Firewhisky, and a resounding crash on his left suggested that Kingsley and Tonks had both done the same.


	7. The Department of Mysteries

“He’s WHAT?” roared Mad-Eye, standing up and upturning his chair behind him with the force of his movement. 

“Snape said, he’s left Hogwarts, Umbridge caught him, he thinks I’m there, I’m not, I’m here, shit shit shit, he’s gone to the Ministry to save me but I don’t need saving, I’m here, Remus help me!”

Sirius had Remus by the shoulders and was shaking him lightly by end of his sentence. Kingsley gently prised him off, and sat him down into the nearest dining chair. Remus dropped to the seat next to his friend. 

“Start again from the beginning,” said Remus. He tried to keep his voice as even as possible, and his face clear of panic, but he could hear the words shaking as he said them. “Tell us what Severus said.”

Mad-Eye rounded the table to stand behind Sirius. “Yes, tell us lad. We’re going to need all the facts to make our plan.”

“Harry will be okay,” Kingsley reassured the room.

Tonks passed Sirius a glass of Firewhisky. He took a deep breath and a long drink before beginning to talk.

“Snape contacted me via Patronus, asking me to respond immediately if I was in Grimmauld Place. I nearly didn’t, I hate the man, I thought he was just being obnoxious Snivellus as usual. But I did. He was called to Umbridge’s office at Hogwarts a short while ago to provide her with Veritaserum to interrogate Harry. He’d, Harry had, been caught sneaking into that bitches office. He told her he was trying to contact Dumbledore, but when he saw Snape he shouted a coded message that he had bene trying to contact me as he believed I’m in the Hall of Prophecy at the Ministry.

“Harry disappeared off into the forest with Umbridge and Hermione. Snape was lurking around, before he could intervene Harry and his friends had got Thestrals to the Ministry. They’re on their way there now. Maybe they’re already there. How fast can Thestrals fly? What if we’re too late? I’ll kill Snape if he didn’t get us the message in time, fucking kill him!”

Remus leant forwards and placed a hand on Sirius’ shoulder. The man was vibrating slightly with the force of his anger and fear. He’d never seen Sirius this afraid before. Not in the first war, not even when they were under attack by sixteen Death Eaters just him and Sirius and Marlene McKinnon. He now had some idea of the man that had chased down Peter the night James and Lily died.

“Sirius, we will be in time.”

Remus didn’t believe his own statement, not fully. However, if they didn’t calm Sirius down he would be useless, and he would insist on coming. Remus had already decided not to try and persuade Sirius otherwise. It would waste too much valuable time.

“Snape has spoken to Dumbledore. He believes Voldemort has sent Harry a vision of… of me trapped in the Department of Mysteries by Voldemort. He needs Harry there, and he’s used me to lure him there.

Sirius’ explanation over, Mad-Eye began to take charge. 

“We’ll Apparate to the main entrance. Kingsley and Tonks can get us in through there. We’ll send one in, Kingsley or Tonks, to check out the status and for Death Eaters in the Atrium. They’ll be least likely to be suspected as out of place by anyMinistry staff we run into, although any Death Eater worth their salt will know them of course. The rest will follow when we get the all clear, and we can proceed down to the Department of Mysteries. We want the element of surprise when we get in there. Minimal engagement with Death Eaters. We get in, get Potter and his friends, get out. Questions?”

Remus had one. “Sirius, who is with Harry from the school?”

Sirius still looked pained, clutching his glass as if it was his grip on sanity. “Hermione, Ron, Ginny, Neville Longbottom and the Xeno Lovegood's girl.”

“Luna,” said Remus. “I didn’t know they were close with her.”

“Now’s not the time for speculation on adolescent friendships,” said Mad-Eye. “Let’s go.”

Remus caught both Kingsley and Tonks giving Sirius a sideways look as they went to leave Grimmauld Place, filing out one by one in silence through the hallway. He was glad neither of them challenged Sirius on his presence within the small team. It would have wasted time, and would ultimately have been fruitless. Besides, Remus thought Sirius deserved to come. It was his godson. Wizarding notions of godfathers and godmothers were strong, and he was expected to protect Harry if it was within his power.

They Apparted with a neatly coordinated collection of cracking sounds to their destination. Nobody seemed to feel the need to talk as the two Aurors shared out entrance tokens. Kingsley was to enter first, and after a few moments his lynx patronus arrived back with them to inform them there were no Death Eaters in the Atrium. 

Remus flushed himself into the toilet, to reappear in the Atrium. Despite Kingsley’s message, he held his wand raised. He’d been through enough battles, and enough of Mad-Eyes simulated exercised, to know the importance of being ready. To his left, Tonks shot through the fireplace in a heap. Sirius swirled in to his right. Mad-Eye brought up the rear.

Kingsley was on the other side of the Atrium already, waiting by the lifts. He too had his wand raised. He’d positioned himself flush against the wall by the lifts, concealed from view of anyone in a lift.

“If I was them, I’d have someone waiting in the corridor downstairs. Possibly under a cloak or otherwise hidden,” he said. “We should Disillusion, and go quietly. Check for human presence before continuing.”

All four others nodded. Mad-Eye threw his Invisibility Cloak over himself, and Tonks raised her wand to Disillusion herself. Remus cast his own charm, and by the time he was done found himself staring at nobody at all. Well, a slight outline of Sirius, but if you didn’t know where he was you wouldn’t have seen him. Everyone else was completely invisible. 

Down they went in the lift, into the bowels of the Ministry. Stepping out, Remus raised his wand once more. A slight movement of the air on either side of him revealed his companions doing the same. The five stood in formation, watching and listening. 

Someone, Kingsley he thought, went to step forwards but Remus threw out an arm to stop them. There was someone up ahead. 

He cast a non-verbal Stunning Spell, and heard a satisfying thud of it hitting the mark. Kingsley, he was sure it was Kingsley, started forwards again and this time Remus didn’t attempt to stop him. On his other side, he heard Tonks mutter ‘homenium revelio’ and then ‘all clear’.

As one the group ran forwards. Kingsley shot ropes at the stunned Death Eater as they ran past, and Moody threw his Invisibility Cloak over him. There was no time to do much more; they would just have to hope he didn't somehow free himself and come after them. Through the doors they went at a run, into a room with so many doors that Remus couldn’t even begin to work out which was the one they’d find Harry behind. 

Tonks was last through the door. “Don’t shut it! It spins!” Mad-Eye shouted from his position at the head of the group, but she was too quick and the door fell closed on the last word of his shout.

“Which way?” asked Sirius when the spinning stopped. His eyes were wide with fear, but he also looked alive. Far more alive than he had looked in the last year stuck in Grimmauld Place. After this, when they’d rescued Harry, Remus was going to make Dumbledore let Sirius out of his confinement. 

Remus looked around. One was marked with a great fiery ‘x’. He was sure it wasn’t that one, but that didn’t rule out many options. He grabbed at a door at random, noticing as he did so that Sirius and Tonks had both done the same thing. 

Inside Remus’ choice of room was a desk, chair, and a lot of smashed glass. A man with the head of a baby stumbled around, groaning and wailing, his ripped sleeve showing off a snake and skull tattoo. Remus quickly slammed the door. They could deal with him later. He didn’t look much of a threat right now. 

Tonks’ room was an empty office filled with potion bottles and a cauldron, Sirius’ dark and disturbing and completely silent. Sirius and Mad-Eye pulled open more doors. Screams came from Kingsley’s choice, and a hooded and masked Death Eater from Mad-Eye’s.

The Death Eater began to fire curses at them, but the five of them were no match for him and soon he was down on the floor at Tonk’s feet. She prodded him with her boot until his mask fell off.

“Don’t know this one,” she said.

“No time for him, let’s go!” shouted Sirius, and pushed past Kingsley to run through the door he had opened. Remus followed, and Tonks leapt the Death Eater to join them. Kingsley and Mad-Eye brought up the rear.

They ran into a battle. Harry and Neville were fighting still, the others Snape had told them were there were nowhere to be seen. Neville looked injured. Harry seemed okay. The Order members fanned out across the room, wordlessly choosing a Death Eater each and making sure every opponent was covered by at least one of them. It was a well practiced manoeuvre. They had all been in far more fights than they wanted to have been.

Remus took on two Death Eaters, both masked. By their fighting skills they were newer recruits. They certainly didn’t have the hardened battle skills of some of the old guard, but they did have a desire to prove themselves. Both of them threw curses and hexes at him with wild abandon. Such an onslaught of spells was designed to get him by chance more than by any particular skill, and Remus knew that all he needed to do was defend until one of them left themselves exposed. Wizards like this always did, sooner or later.

He took his chance when one of them tried to overdo it with a complicated curse, and dropped the Shield Charm he’d been holding for a few seconds to get in a well-timed Body Bind Curse. His Shield Charm went back up seconds later, not a moment before a nasty-looking lime green spell Remus didn’t recognise slammed into it from the second Death Eater he was fighting. The man’s hood had fallen down, revealing neat golden blond hair.

Remus almost lost his own concentration when, out of the corner of his eye, he saw Tonks fall. She flipped down the steps of the room and landed with a crunch at the bottom. His Shield Charm flickered and died, and he made to run to her when a badly-aimed curse from the remaining Death Eater he was fighting grazed his shoulder. He forced himself to concentrate on the duel. He’d be able to get to her when he’d finished this man off. 

Throwing the panic for Tonks into his wand, he screamed “Stupefy!” and the wizard was thrown halfway across the room with the force of his spell. He rushed down the steps, shooting hex at Dolohov to help Kingsley out, past Sirius battling away. He was nearly to Tonks, just reaching Harry and Neville, when there was a crash and Albus Dumbledore entered the room.

Fighting slowed almost immediately. Harry and his friends had disabled some of the Death Eaters, the Order members had Sirius and Bellatrix were still fighting away on the dais, but Tonks would be safe now.

Sirius. Sirius was falling through the veil, and Remus was restraining Harry from running after him, but all he really wanted to do at that moment was to run with Harry towards his best friend. To dive in there and drag Sirius out. He knew it was a pointless exercise, he knew what that veil was, but he still wanted to do it. Harry couldn’t though. And that was what held him back as Harry screamed and raged at him. 

Harry stopped struggling, but it felt barely moments after Remus had released him that he was off again, chasing after Bellatrix . Remus had no way of catching him this time. Dumbledore was following Harry, though, and so Remus stayed put. He found Harry’s friends and busied himself with making them comfortable until help could arrive to take them up to Hogwarts’ hospital wing. 

“Remus, are you okay?” asked Ginny Weasley as he strapped her broken ankle to make it stable. He’d repaired broken bones before, but his hands were shaking and he hadn’t wanted to trust himself. She looked genuinely concerned as she asked the question, as if she really did care about his wellbeing. 

“I’m going to be fine,” he said, his eyes firmly focused on the bandage his wand was winding around her leg and foot. “Let’s focus on you. Do any of you know what kind of curse hit Hermione? The colour of the light, any incantations? Madam Pomfrey and the Healers will need all the information they can get.”

He remained in the Department of Mysteries after everyone else had left. He helped Madam Pomfrey get the other students ready for their transport back to Hogwarts once she arrived, listening to her muttered rantings about keeping students out of trouble and on the grounds of Hogwarts. The matron was not a fan of Dolores Umbridge, it turned out. He gave an eyewitness account to Cornelius Fudge. A weak man, and not one who had ever done anything for people like Remus. He’d actively signed legislation against his kind, in fact.

He avoided Nymphadora Tonks, even when the Healers arrived and lifted her onto a floating stretcher. 

At last he was alone in the great dark room where Sirius died. Remus walked slowly and cautiously towards the Veil. He stopped just short of it and stood in silence, listening out to see if he could hear his old friends voice one last time. He’d never had a chance to say goodbye. The second time Sirius had gone without a goodbye, and this time it would definitely be the last. No more Padfoot. No more friends.

He took another step forward on the dais. It would be so easy now to take two, maybe three more steps with his feet and to go through the archway himself. He’d be free of these feelings there. Whatever came after held no fear for Remus. It was almost certainly not going to be any worse than his experience of living. His slightly-religious mother had believed in a notion of Heaven and Hell, his dad believed in the common wizarding notion that there was nothing after. Remus preferred his dad’s belief. As much as anything else, his dad’s beliefs had never led to a visit to a freezing cold Muggle chapel.

One more step. Just another and he could lean forward and taste the nothingness. Harry was safe now. Tonks was being looked after. He would not really be missed. 

“Remus?” The voice of Albus Dumbledore came from behind him. Remus turned, slowly, reluctantly. It would have been one thing to have taken the easy route out alone in the Department of Mysteries, and a whole other to have essentially committed suicide in front of his old Headmaster. “The St Mungo’s Healers are waiting to see you. I’ve asked them to check everyone over who was here tonight. You’ll be pleased to know that Miss Tonks is likely to make a full recovery.”

Remus walked down from the dais. He didn’t have anything much to say to Dumbledore.

“I am terribly sorry about Sirius Black,” said the old wizard, placing a hand on Remus’ arm as they walked out the door together. “His life was much more tragedy than any one wizard should have to bear. As has yours been, and Harry’s. I’ve always wished I could have saved even one of you the pain.”

But you can’t, thought Remus. The main positive angle to his life at this point was that it was unlikely to get too much worse.


	8. Minerva

Remus heard the voices coming up the stairs. He hoped they were going somewhere else, and not coming to hassle him. But there wasn’t anyone else up here any more. Not since Sirius. Or even on the floor below. They’d moved out Buckbeak the Hippogriff two days ago. Remus had listened. Buckbeak hadn’t wanted to go.

“Has he spoken to anyone?” came a female, Scottish voice. 

“He’s told half the Order to fuck off, if thats what you mean?”

“That is not what I meant, Mr Weasley, thank you very much.”

Minerva McGonagall was coming up, and either Fred or George Weasley. Remus had indeed told both Weasley twins to fuck off, and a few others, and he would do again if it was required to get them to leave him alone. He didn't need the paper, the books, Molly’s cooking, prank products, or any of the other distractions that Order members had been bringing to his room. Sirius’ room.

“We’ve all been up to see how he is, Minerva, but he says he's not in the mood for visitors. Molly has been making sure he eats.”

“A noble start.”

Arthur Weasley too. Excellent. An entire troop of visitors, as there was unlikely to be only one Weasley twin. There was never only one Weasley twin.

He was proved correct when the door opened. Minerva swept in at the head of the group, wine-red robes swishing. Fred and George were behind her, one levitating a tea-tray full of food and the other a mug of tea. Arthur Weasley made up the rear.

“Hello Remus,” said Minerva, conjuring herself a chair next to Remus’ bed. Sirius’ bed.

“Hello, Professor.”

“Molly sends up lunch,” Arthur said. “She says to eat what you can, and she'll be up for the tray in half an hour or so. Now come on boys, lets leave Minerva and Remus to it.”

They left, and Remus heard Arthur’s muttered warnings to the twins as they did so. He couldn't see why anyone would want to use Extendable Ears to eavesdrop on him getting a telling-off from Professor McGonagall. Actually, he could. Sirius would have done it if he’d had access to Extendable Ears. He’d have thought it very funny. 

It had usually been Sirius getting the telling off, though, and if Remus had been faced with the wrath of McGonagall he’d usually have had Sirius by his side. Not any more.

“Remus, you’d better eat that. Molly’s cooking is excellent and we would not be wanting it to go to waste.”

It was pie, and it almost certainly was excellent. 

“Later,” he said.

“It will be cold later,” she replied.

They looked at each other for a long time. He remembered her gaze well from his school years. She was not a woman who was going to accept no for an answer, and getting her to leave him alone was going to be a lot harder than removing even Molly Weasley. She was the only one so far who had even got close to making him leave this room.

“This isn’t Hogwarts,” he said, prompted by absolutely nothing. “You can’t make me do anything.”

“You are quite correct, Mr Lupin. This is not Hogwarts, and I cannot make you do anything. But I can use my considerable powers of persuasion.”

She was a formidable witch. He’d been terrified of her until at least fourth year. But she wasn’t going to be able to put him in detention now, and writing to his parents wouldn’t scare him either.

“And why exactly would you want to persuade me to do anything?”

“Because there is a war going on, Remus, and we need you. And, because I don’t think it is going to help for you to wallow here in bed mourning and not looking after yourself. I’m worried about you, and so is everyone else.”

He had expected the ‘we need you’ line but not necessarily the concern. 

“What use am I?”

“I think you could work that out. At the Ministry, you were the only one besides Albus and Mr Potter to come out without any injury. You are an exceptionally talented dueller, Remus. You have skills in a variety of spheres of magic. You can lead groups on missions or in battle. And, besides, Mr Potter needs you.

“He needed Sirius. He needs Arthur and Molly, he needs Albus, Ron and Hermione, and you, Minerva. He doesn’t need me.”

“I’m his teacher. His Head of House, who I’m sure he respects but I’m not going to be someone he can come to in times of distress, Remus. He would to you.”

Remus shook his head. “It should have been me. In the Ministry.”

“It should have been nobody,” she said. “But unfortunately we all knew that we would not necessarily survive this when we signed up for the Order, and Sirius was unfortunate.”

“Unfortunate! He was murdered by Bellatrix! She was seeking him out deliberately, she hated him! Don’t you understand? She killed him, and he was the last of my friends!”

Minerva said nothing. He was sat up in the bed now, his hair all over the place and his eyes full of anger. The mug of tea Molly had sent up was on the floor, smashed and forgotten. It was the first time in days he had looked even slightly animated. Her thin lips suppressed a smile.

“He was not the last of your friends.”

“James is dead, Minerva. Voldemort saw to him. Peter will be dead if I can get my hands on him. Sirius was all I had left and now he is gone too. You don’t understand.”

“Do I not, Mr Lupin? I’ve lost people too. I’ve lost a lot of friends. We all have. And we all still have some.”

Remus looked down. The tea was forming a dark patch on the Gryffindor red carpets of Sirius’ bedroom. He reached for his wand to tidy it up. From the look on Minerva’s face, he had genuinely upset his old teacher for the first time. This was a look beyond that which his misdemeanours at Hogwarts had ever got him.

“I’m sorry, Minerva. That was too far.”

“Indeed it was. You have had an awful lot of terrible things happen in your life, I’m well aware of that. But you do not have a monopoly on unhappy things.”

“Sirius, he had an unhappy life too. He always deserved more.”

“As do you, Remus.” 

“I don’t know how to get out of this.”

It was a small thing, but it was the first time Remus Lupin had admitted he needed help since his days at Hogwarts. He had never been a trusting man; he had too much to lose to trust many people. Asking for help generally required he trusted the person he was asking. It was by far easier to handle things alone.

“A good start would be to eat that pie. Molly will be up here in…” she consulted her watch, “about ten minutes now, and she will only need to give you a lecture on the importance of nutrition if you don’t eat at least half of it. Then we will progress to a shower, and after that you can come downstairs for a drink with Arthur, Molly and myself. I will make sure the Weasley twins are absent.

“And then, I’m afraid, it’s a matter of taking it day by day. It’s not going to be easy. You and Sirius were very good friends. When I lost my husband, it was many years before I was able to get through a day without feeling so incredibly sad for him, and many more before I could live a day without thinking of him at all. But I managed it, Remus, and so will you. “

The older witch had a tear in her eye as she passed him the plate of pie again. 

“I’m sorry about your husband. I… I didn’t know Minerva.”

“No, I suppose you didn’t. It was just after the last war, when I believe from what Albus has told me you were having some troubles of your own.”

“What was his name?”

“Elphinstone. He was my boss when I was at the Ministry. A talented wizard, and unfortunately we didn’t have many years together. But that is as will be.”

“I’m sorry.” There was more than one tear on Minerva’s face now, and Remus felt that his own was starting to get damp. He started to look away; it felt almost wrong to see a teacher cry.

“There is no need to be ashamed of shedding a tear for those who are gone,” said Minerva, again demonstrating her uncanny ability to see what he was thinking. As far as Remus knew, she had no particular talent for Legilimency. It was likely years of teaching that had given her that particular skill.

“I did some really silly things when I lost my friends before.” He wasn’t sure why he was admitting that.

“And this time perhaps you won’t. You still do have friends Remus. I, for one.”

“Thank you, Minerva.”

Tears were falling thick and fast now from the faces of both. Seven days Remus had been in Sirius’ room, and it was only now he was able to cry for his friend. 

Molly Weasley opened the door, to see Remus and Minerva hugging one another. This was progress of a sort, she thought. She would come back for the tray later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a short one, and mainly because I really like Professor McGonagall as a character!


	9. Leaving

Although he was now interacting with the world outside Sirius’ old bedroom, Remus remained living at Grimmauld Place in the weeks after Sirius died. The house belonged to Harry now, and officially, the Order had vacated until Harry was able to confirm that the ownership had indeed passed to him and that they could keep using it as Headquarters. Remus had been assured by Albus that he was fairly sure that the ownership was secure, however, and that Harry wouldn’t mind Remus continuing to use it. 

It was possibly a sop to him, Remus knew. Just a way of trying to ensure he didn’t hide on them again.

The Order was now meeting at The Burrow, at least in the interim, which meant that Remus would need to leave Grimmauld Place for the first time since the death.

He sat at the door for twenty minutes before he left. He had decided to Apparate. Molly had been on at him to get some fresh air, and walking up to the Burrow would allow him not to lie to her when she inevitably asked if he had been getting some.

Remus chose to Apparate to a field on the other side of the village to The Burrow. He was early, and his lie would be more believable if he looked as though he had walked.

He was almost enjoying the walk through the village with the sun on his back when he heard a voice from the other side of the street.

“Wotcher, Remus,” said Tonks. She was dressed in Muggle clothing, jeans and a t-shirt with a picture of a wolf on it. He didn’t like the t-shirt.

“Hello, Tonks,” he said reluctantly. His own Muggle clothing was much more battered than hers, although in a better state to most of his robes. His jeans had seen better days, especially given that they had been purchased more than a decade ago, and his shirt had a button missing on the cuff. The less said about his Muggle trainers, the better. They had once been blue, but what colour they were now was best described as ‘muddy’.

He attempted to straighten the buttonless shirt sleeve and make it look more like the other one. It was futile.

“Up for the meeting?” she asked, crossing the road to join him and nearly getting run down by a Muggle driving a hideously bright blue car. 

“Thought I’d show my face.”

They walked in silence through the village, turning at the shop and following the lane as it meandered up the hill towards the Weasley’s house. It was summer, and fields of wheat surrounded them. It was almost idyllic. If Remus had been another man, he would have slipped his hand into hers and they would have walked up there together. But he was Remus Lupin, werewolf, disgraced professor, failure. So he shoved his hand further into his jeans pocket.

“Ah, Tonks, Remus, you’re here, that’s everyone!” Molly Weasley was waiting at the gate to The Burrow, presumably to allow them access through the protective spells Albus, Mad-Eye and Arthur had put on the house now it was to be used as Headquarters.

They entered the kitchen to find the rest of the Order, or those free to attend anyway, scattered around the room engaged in conversations. Albus was talking to Mad-Eye in the corner, both with a cup of tea in their hand. The headmaster rather suited Molly’s fanciest china, Remus thought, but there was something odd about the grizzled old Auror clutching a floral-patterned teacup. Perhaps Death Eaters would take him less seriously to see this sight.

“Hey, Remus,” Kingsley was at his shoulder. “Good to see you. How’re you holding up? Drink?” 

Remus accepted a glass of mead. To begin with, he appreciated Kingsley’s concern, but as more of the Order began to check in on him and offer their condolences over Sirius he began to feel frustrated. This was not what he wanted. He was not weak, and in need of checking in on. Downing his mead, he stalked crossly off to the table. Hestia Jones, who had been talking to him, looked put-out, but she could go deal with that Remus thought. 

The meeting started, with the usual drawn out reports. Kingsley reported on current situation at the Ministry, aided by Arthur and Tonks. Remus made sure not to look at her when she was speaking. Harry was to come to the Burrow to spend the summer, so plans were drawn up for getting him there and how to handle his security when he was present. Remus made a note to stay away. Then it was Severus’ turn.

His report was lengthy, as usual. Remus had drunk two more glasses of mead and was beginning to lose some of his earlier anger when his interest was caught by what Severus was saying. Werewolves. 

“The Dark Lord made use of werewolves in the past war, as many of you here will be well aware,” Severus was saying. He nodded curtly at a few of those Order members who had seen the effects, including Remus himself. “I have reason to believe, from sources I have previously discussed and from the Dark Lord himself, that he is intending to rally werewolves to his cause once more. You will all of course know that Fenrir Greyback has been seen around Death Eater associated locations, and it seems to be that he is using the man as a go-between.”

Greyback. Remus had stopped listening. The man who had bitten him.

He had to stop this. 

Severus was coming to an end now, and Remus knew there would soon be discussion of how to deal with the different threats outlined in the spy’s report. Afterwards, Severus and Albus would go off and discuss how Severus could relay things back to Lord Voldemort, creating their complex web of lies. Remus found that unimportant right now. He had to get to the werewolves.

“Thank you Severus, for such a full and thorough report as usual and in spite of the great personal danger you are putting yourself in,” Albus said. “But now we have to act on it. The werewolf information is particularly troubling. We will need to keep a close eye on that.”

Remus felt the eyes of the entire table on him. He was a werewolf. Here he was, perfectly made for spying on his fellows. 

“I’ll do it. I’ll go and join them, find out what’s going on, and then we will know.”

There was an audible gasp from the other end of the table. Tonks had stood up. “Remus, you can’t!”

“And why not? You need someone to watch the werewolves, and you have a werewolf. It would be madness to assign anyone else to this task.”

“It’s dangerous!” she shouted. Most of the Order were watching carefully to see how this played out; a few looked ready to intervene. As usual, Mundungus Fletcher was not paying attention. Remus was almost overcome with the urge to thump the smelly thief. This was important.

Tonks continued. “You can’t go throwing your life away just because you’ve got a… a thing about being a werewolf!”

“I am a werewolf. I am just as dangerous as these other werewolves. Except because you don’t know them and they don’t sit drinking tea or mead with you, do they seem more wolfish to you? More willing to rip your head off in a full moon? More scary? Am I not scary enough? Because if you were in my way on a full moon I’m sure I would kill you, and I would have no control, because that is who I am.”

“Remus, Miss Tonks, that will do!” came the voice of Albus Dumbledore. “Remus, I accept your offer to spy on the werewolves on behalf of the Order, and I’m sure everyone present is well aware the dangers a werewolf on the night of a full moon can pose. Miss Tonks, if you wish to shout at Remus or anyone else in this room, please do so after the meeting. Now, can we move on?”

Tonks burst into tears and stormed out of the room, with the sounds of great heaving sobs. The door slammed shut behind her, leaving silence around the kitchen table.

“Really, Albus!” said Molly, following her with another loud slam of the door.

Remus spent the rest of the meeting outlining on some parchment possible ways to approach the werewolves. It seemed as though Greyback was trying to collect werewolves together for some kind of rally or meeting in a week’s time, so he resolved to start there. He ignored the reproachful looks from Molly, who had rejoined the meeting, and from Minerva. If he died doing this, then so be it, and he didn’t think even Tonks would miss him for very long.

He left as soon as he could once the meeting had finished, apparating back to Grimmauld Place to prepare for his mission. The werewolf rally was the next evening, and, ever prepared, Remus needed to pack his bag. It was something that required thought. It would look suspicious to show up with a large amount of belongings, as if he expected to suddenly stay, but he would need enough to ensure he was able to stay if necessary and to help any werewolf who looked in need. 

To that end, he was going through his medications and first-aid items when there was a loud hammering at the door of Grimmauld Place. He hurried down the stairs from Sirius’ old room to open it. He had no particular desire for visitors, but he had even less desire to listen to Mrs Black’s screeching about blood traitors if she was awoken.

On opening the door he wished he had gone for Mrs Black. It was none other than Tonks, the very last person he wished to see. He hadn’t set eyes on her since her storming from the Order meeting last Saturday, and hadn’t intended to before leaving for the werewolves. He knew any encounter with her would not weaken his resolve, but he didn’t feel like he needed it.

“There’s nobody else here,” he said, hoping to head her off before she could get in through the door.

“Who do you think I’m here for?” she asked, pushing past him.

He trailed after her into the kitchen, watched her pull a drink from the cabinet, and again followed her up the the still slightly musty drawing room. She sat on a sofa, he remained standing. 

“I’m not here to talk you out of going to the werewolves,” she said. “I don’t think you’d listen.”

“No, I wouldn’t.”

“I want to know why you’re going. I want to understand.”

“You know. Nothing more or nothing less than exactly what I said in the Order meeting. Dumbledore and the Order need a spy on the werewolves, I am a werewolf. It is the simplest solution. Sending anyone else would risk a reveal before anything useful was gained, and would put the werewolves on edge and make them much less likely to talk in the future. It all fits, all I have to do is show up.”

“You’re not… you’re not telling me everything.”

“That’s very astute.”

“If you’d stop being so unhelpful!”

“Do you really want to know? Do you?” He started towards her, fists balled up by his sides, and stopped just short of where he sat. He could cut a menacing figure when he wanted to. Tall, with wide-set shoulders, he gave the impression of strength even if an onlooker did not know that he was a werewolf. Years of mistrust of others and poverty was etched on his face, along with the scars of his transformations. 

Tonks scrunched back into the sofa. She nodded, her small, heart-shaped face turned up to look at him.

“When I was four, I was bitten by Fenrir Greyback. He targets children. He wants to make them into good pack members, who will distrust wizards and wish to hurt as many of them as possible. So he bites them young. He bit me because my father angered him. So instead of dealing with it like someone ordinary, he made me a monster.

My father had told him werewolves deserved death, and my mother was a Muggle. Greyback likely assumed that they would abandon me. They did not, thankfully. My parents forced me into the cellar each month to transform. I was alone, scared, I was four years old. I didn’t understand, and I went through it all alone.

As I got bigger the wolf got stronger. My parents struggled to control me, and I began to hurt myself. The wolf was frustrated at being so near humans and unable to hunt, and at being confined. The Wolfsbane potion hadn’t been invented yet, so there was nothing to stop me from becoming a monster every month. My parents were so afraid I would be discovered as a werewolf; they knew my life could only be made worse by other people knowing what I had become. So we moved, regularly, I wasn’t allowed contact with other children, and if I did find someone to make a connection with I was whisked away to a new location. 

And it was all my fault, why I couldn’t have friends and why my parents couldn’t live a normal life. My mother stopped seeing her family, they couldn’t trust that I wouldn’t say something to her Muggle relatives. My father told his mother, who disowned him.

I was able to go to Hogwarts, but my friends used me as a weapon. They told Severus Snape what I was, led him to me transformed, and if James hadn’t got cold feet and intervened I would have killed him. With no mercy. I would have killed a man in cold blood, Tonks, and I wouldn’t have thought twice. That is in my nature.

I forgave them, of course I did. I had nobody else. I still loved them.

I left Hogwarts, and when the war was over there was nothing for me. I can’t get a job, nobody will hire a werewolf. After my year of teaching at Hogwarts when my secret was revealed, and with the Ministry’s new legislation, it is even harder. I haven’t worked for three years and that doesn’t look likely to change. I’m classified by the Ministry of Magic as a beast. Non-human. I have to register myself.

I don’t know if you can understand. You come from a good family, who have never wished people like you dead. You have a job, money, a home, friends. You have a life ahead of you after this war. War is the only time wizarding society has a use for me; otherwise I am alone, poor and still so very dangerous.”

It was a bigger speech than Remus had intended to give. The menace of minutes before had faded out of him, and he sank backwards and down onto the floor with his back against the wall. He focused on his bare feet as the silence grew between him and Tonks. He wasn’t going to speak first. It was up to her now what she wanted to do.

She didn’t speak, but uncoiled from the sofa and slightly hesitantly walked to where he sat. She settled herself next to him, back against the peeling wallpaper, and contemplated her own boot-clad feet for a moment.

“I didn’t understand. I probably still don’t.”

It was a start, he thought. 

“I know you’re going to go whatever I say,” she continued, eyes still on her boots. “I don’t even know if I want to persuade you. I guess, I wanted you to know that I care what happens to you.”

She was fiddling with the catches on her Muggle jacket now, nervous and so incredibly young-looking. This was her first war. Sirius was the first person she had lost, and she hadn’t even known him that well. She would lose more. 

Remus was not planning past the war. He did not expect to survive this. It was the first time he had admitted that to himself in so many words, but he knew it had been true for months. At least since Sirius died, and possibly since Sirius in the form of Padfoot had arrived at the door of his cottage to tell him that Voldemort had returned. Many would die, and he may well be one of them.

“Remus?” she was looking directly at him now. Her eyes were a dull brown, her hair mousey, both had been like that every time he had seen her for some months. He’d never seen her looks stay the same for so long. Even if her constant fiddling betrayed her age, her face looked older.

“You are right in that I’ll go whatever you say,” he said, not allowing himself to meet her eyes. “I am the perfect fit for this task and I can help the Order best by doing this. I need to do this.”

“Please,” she said, and he allowed himself to look at her. “Please just remember that we care.”

She leant forward and kissed him. It was a soft kiss, so unlike the hard, challenging one she’d given him before in the broom cupboard downstairs. She stroked the back of his head as she kissed him, running her hands into his hair and then down his back as she pulled away. 

Remus reached up to stroke the tear away that had formed on her cheek.

“I cannot ever be with you,” he said, almost sadly. “It will hurt less this way.”

“I know my own mind,” she said. Their hands still rested on the other’s body.

“I know you do,” he replied. “And I know mine. I don’t want you to think you can fix me. You can’t fix a werewolf.”

She kissed him once more, stood up, and walked to the door. The old silver doorhandle turned at the lightest touch and the door sprang one for her. “I’m going now,” she said, fiddling with her jacked again. “Good luck.”

He waited on the floor as the sound of her footsteps faded away into silence. He waited on the floor until the shrieks of Mrs Black in the hallway went quiet. He waited some more for good measure, before picking up his battered rucksack and resuming packing his limited possessions.


	10. Great Yarmouth

Death Eater locations tended to be grand, or at least that was true from Remus’ years of experience over two wars. Many of the members were old blood and old money, and owned palatial country piles. Those that weren’t tended to pretend they were, and made their homes as impressive as possible in another way. Even their secret hideaways, storage places and meeting locations tended towards the grandiose. Even the barn in Wales where he’d been injured had been impressive in it’s way, with the carefully carved snakes in the stonework doorways.

Werewolf hideouts were not. The one where the werewolves meeting was held was an abandoned warehouse on the edge of Great Yarmouth, tucked away on the eastern edge of England far away from almost everything else. From what Remus had managed to find out of the Muggle town, it was a singularly depressing place. The werewolf community seemed to be, too.

He suspected it had been chosen as the town had large amounts of empty buildings, plenty of Muggles to blend in with, and nearby countryside for transformations. It apparently housed a small but growing pack of werewolves who had been attracted by the increasingly pro-Voldemort speeches made by Fenrir Greyback and his closest associates. Remus had no way of knowing if the werewolves who were coming here agreed with Greyback or if they were simply curious; but then that was his job to find out.

Nearly fifty werewolves were milling about inside the warehouse when Remus arrived. It was a draughty building, which had perhaps once been impressive but was now in need of some serious repairs. A makeshift podium had been created at the front out of shipping boxes, and a set of tables to the side provided drinks and what looked suspiciously like sausage buns for refreshments. 

It was dark and cold and slightly smelling of fish, even though by the age of the building and state of disrepair it was unlikely to have been used for fish for a good thirty years. A hole in the roof let through a view of the stars. One of them was called Sirius, amusingly the Dog Star. Sirius the person had liked Sirius the star, and had frequently pointed out it’s location to his friends. Remus told himself firmly to stop thinking about Sirius. He had to focus. 

Most of the wolves here were not from the pack that lived here. He could tell which were the local pack. They held together in a tight knot near the front, wanting to be close to the action. He felt sure the pack was fairly loyal to Greyback, as they were essentially hosting this rally. They were not going to be his starting point. He’d need to talk to them at some stage, but not yet.

Instead, he’d picked a smaller group of werewolves standing nearer the entrance to start with. Even if not friendly to Remus, they looked unlikely to be directly hostile. Most of the people in the group also looked as though they had tried to live amongst wizards. That was a positive sign that they were not all for Greyback’s anti-human agenda, he thought.

Remus picked up a sausage bun, which he didn’t even really want, and walked over towards his targets. 

“Hello,” he said. “Erm, I’m here for the rally. Do you know much about all of this?” He tried to keep his tone fairly light, blending in as just another slightly uncertain werewolf.

“No,” said a woman who looked as if she’d been in the wizarding community. “I met Mike a few months back, and he wanted to come, so I tagged along.” An older wizard, wearing shabby Muggle clothing, nodded to Remus, identifying himself as Mike. “I’m Anna,” she continued. "Who are you?”

“John,” he said. He had decided to go by his middle name here. Given his history with Greyback, he had decided it was best that he did not give away who he was. Initially at least. He wasn’t sure exactly how much the other werewolf knew of his recent history. He knew of his alignment with Dumbledore in the first war at least, and if Voldemort was giving him information to help him rally the werewolves then he would likely know of his activities this time around too. He also knew that Greyback kept an eye on his dad, and Remus didn’t want his dad dragged into this.

He’d also decided on a modified version of his own history. Bitten at the age of four, some magical education, and a lifetime of managing to get some work between periods of worklessness. He would admit to friends who were wizards. He wasn’t planning to reveal that he’d attended Hogwarts as a werewolf, or worked there. Too identifying.

One of the werewolves in that group had been bitten younger, and had less involvement with ordinary wizards. Mike was a strong Scottish wizard who had spent the last fifty years a wolf, mostly living on his own in the Highlands. He reckoned many of the others here were like him.

The last two were Ottoline and Eugenia, sisters who had also been bitten recently. Eugenia hid under her brown fringe and just stared at Remus and the others as they spoke. 

“I’m nineteen,” explained Ottoline. “Eugenia’s twenty-three. She was going to be married to some boy she met at Hogwarts. She was working for the Ministry, where were you again Genie? Oh yeah, Magical Sports. She’s dead good at Quidditch. I’d got a job too, ironically in the Department for Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. Then we were in the wrong place at the wrong time, and, all gone.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Remus said.

“Yeah, it’s pretty shit,” said Ottoline. “Genie’s boyfriend dumped her. Dad doesn’t want to know, either. Mum gives us a bit of money and sees us once a week or so, but you can tell she’s a bit scared now and she doesn’t really know what to do. She just wanted us to make nice, pureblood marriages and have kids. Easier to give her the space until she sorts it out. We’ve got a brother still at Hogwarts. He’s fine. Thinks it’s all a bit of a joke, but he’s not being a twat really, he’s just a teenager.”

Remus idly wondered if Harry and his friends would know the brother.

“Anyway,” said Ottoline. “That’s us. What about you, leave anyone behind when you got bitten? Mike didn’t, he’s a bit of a loner.”

Mike grunted at that. He’d mostly been listening to the conversation, sipping a drink from a flask he kept in a pocket of his jacket. Remus suspected Ottoline’s assessment of him as a loner was spot-on. Most werewolves, aside from the very newly turned, were.

“I had friends, though they’re mostly dead now,” he said. “One died a couple of weeks ago. Came here to see what was going on to deal with that and avoid some girl, really.” That wasn’t a totally fair way to describe Tonks. She was far more than some girl. And she always would be.

“Ooh, a girl!” said Ottoline, looking interested. Anna leaned into the conversation slightly too, though Mike seemed to edge further out. “Tell us more.”

“She’s pretty, funny, exciting, kind, a lovely woman,” he said. “And not a werewolf. So there’s not going to be anything happening there.”

“Why not?” asked Ottoline. You could tell she was a new werewolf from miles off. “I don’t get this whole ‘can’t be with a normal witch or wizard thing’. Why can’t we? It’s not like we’re any different, except at the full moon. Well, and the whole preferring meat not to be cooked thing, but the French hate their meat cooked too. I went there on holiday once. Genie’s boyfriend is a dick to dump her for it, is your girl an idiot too? Did she threaten you like he did?”

“No, she doesn’t see it as a problem, but it can’t be.”

“Why not then? You’re into her, she’s into you, that’s about all you need isn’t it? The werewolf thing isn’t all that important.”

Anna sighed. “My husband didn’t think so.”

“Can I call him a dick too, or is it too soon? Genie said I could call Mathias a dick.”

Ottoline had all the idealism of a teenager, Remus thought. He had thought much the same himself at nineteen. And at twenty-three, come to that. He’d even gone so far as to admit to being a werewolf to a girlfriend in his early twenties. He wouldn’t fall into that trap again. 

Although, she sounded as though she could be a potential first ally.

“Unfortunately it isn’t that simple,” Remus said. “I’m too old for her, besides.”

He was saved from continuing the conversation with Ottoline, Anna and the others by the sounds of movement from the front of the warehouse. Fenrir Greyback was climbing onto the makeshift podium. He wanted to continue speaking to these people, but hopefully by the time Greyback had finished the subject could be something other than his failure of a love life.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Fenrir began. He spoke from notes, glancing down at them every few seconds to check where he was at. This would have given other speakers an air of nervousness, but Remus doubted this man could look nervous if he tried. Mostly, he looked vicious. He’d attacked in a werewolf style outside of the full moon a few weeks ago, and he looked as though he could do it again at any moment. His grey hair was lank, his face scarred, and his teeth stained. He was wild, Remus thought. 

“I’d like to begin by thanking all of you for coming here tonight. You have all been hurt in some way by wizarding society. You have all been wronged. Perhaps you were bitten young, and were unable to grow up like a wizard, shunned by society from an early age. Perhaps you were bitten later in life, and have had family and friends reject you for what you are. 

Perhaps you feel ashamed. Dirty. Worthless to society. Nothing. 

Don’t! It is not you that is at fault, it is wizards! They don’t understand our kind and they never will! We are far more powerful than they can ever be! Think about the power that is at your fingertips every month when the moon rises full, and think about the power that could be yours if you embrace your wolf! 

We need to be able to take the wolf as our strength, to be who we are without fear of retributions! Join me, and I will show you how to be the wolf you could be!”

Greyback was shouting now, his eyes wide and shining as if on a hunt. The wolves in the room were his prey, almost. Remus looked around. Everyone, with the exception of a few of the local pack at the front, and a small group near the food, were staring at him intently. Some looked a bit scared, others highly interested. The local pack were watching the assembled wolves instead, as if to pick out which of them were the most likely recruits. One of them, a larger man with a red bomber jacket, caught Remus’ eye. Remus looked away. He wasn’t planning to draw attention to himself at this point. 

The group by the food were muttering amongst themselves, or at least until they were glared at by another of the local pack. Remus committed their appearances to memory. They looked like another set of people worth talking to. Not wanting to miss too much of what Greyback was saying, he turned back to the speech.

“Those who would like to live amongst wizards, to be stuck as second, no, third, class members of the wizarding world, can go now. Those who want to be something more, join me. We can rule our own destinies! We can rule the wizards!”

Greyback slammed his notes down with a flourish and stepped off the podium. Immediately he was surrounded by members of the local pack and a few other werewolves that had remained lurking near the front. To a man, all of them were very similar; all were male, young, bulky in build and heavily scarred. All of them had a hard look in their eyes. They were dangerous men. 

Remus made a mental note to avoid all of them for the time being. 

He turned back to his companions. Mike had been nodding along for much of the speech, although seemed less convinced by the end sections. Eugenia was still hidden under her hair, impossible to read. Ottoline was confused, it seemed, and Anna less than impressed. 

Remus himself had to admit that the speech had been clever. Greyback was absolutely right about the way wizarding society treated werewolves. Everyone in the room would have experienced discrimination, even those who had been bitten only recently. Pointing that out, over and over again, was a good way to raise tensions and get everyone angry about what was happening to them.

The only problem was the conclusion Greyback had drawn. He had again been very clever and avoided calling for outright attacks on wizards, but Remus knew enough of the man’s history to know how it would go with him. Unfortunately, it was unlikely most in the room knew what Remus did. Some of them would be drawn in further. Likely, some of them would kill and maim under Greyback’s guidance.

His job was for as few of them to join Greyback as possible. Even if he couldn’t persuade them to join his cause, he’d hopefully be able to at least stop them joining Greyback’s. And, by extension, Voldemort’s. It was important to remember who was pulling the strings here.

“Do you think he’s right, about how society sees us?” said Ottoline. 

“Yes,” said Anna before Remus could answer. “I don’t know if I want to join him, though. He seems… violent. Dangerous. I don’t know if I trust him.”

“I don’t,” said Mike. The older man didn’t say a lot, it seemed to Remus, but had the tone that what he did say was respected. “I think he’s thick. We’re best off by ourselves. Got no chance of persuading anyone.”

“I don’t either,” said Eugenia, speaking for the first time.

“John?” asked Ottoline. “What do you reckon?”

Remus took a second to answer. He was going to have to get better at responding to his fake name. 

“I’ve met him before,” Remus admitted. “He bit me because my dad said something he didn’t like. I’m not the only one he’s used to get revenge on some wizard. I don’t think he cares about us, he just wants to hurt more normal wizards.”

“Thought as much,” huffed Mike. “Knew I couldn’t trust the wee fucker further than I could chuck him.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually really like Great Yarmouth. I lived there for a while. But it is a bit rubbish :)


	11. Letters to the Wolves

Remus had decided to use his old cottage as a base for his mission with the werewolves to start with. Eventually, he’d need to join a pack. Maybe in the next month or so, once he had established where it was most useful for him to be. 

He’d stayed in contact with the four werewolves he’d met at the first rally. Eugenia still didn’t say anything, and Mike not much more, but Ottoline and Anna were good company. He’d made contact with a few more werewolves, too, from the other group he’d had his eye on at the rally. There was seven of them, all bitten recently as adults. Most of them seemed positive, although a few were leaning towards Greyback. 

He was now working on some of his old contacts, from years ago. A couple of them he’d spotted at the rally, a few more were dead, and others he was in the process of arranging to meet. 

He was writing a letter to one of these werewolves, a lonely old soul called Hunter, when somebody else’s owl swooped through the window. Assuming it was one of his werewolf correspondents, he reached into the air for the handsome tawny as it came in to land. He unrolled the scroll carefully, hoping it was an offer to meet rather than an outright rejection. He’d had a couple of those already.

It was from Tonks. Why was she writing to him? He thought he’d been clear enough when they’d left one another.

Dear Remus, the letter read.

I hope you’re well. Albus says you’re on track, which I assume means nobody’s scratched you up wherever you are. 

Mad-Eye, Molly, Arthur and I are off to Kings Cross tomorrow to meet Harry’s train coming back from Hogwarts. We think it would be a good idea to chat to his aunt and uncle and make sure he’s going to be well treated over the summer. Especially now Sirius is gone.

I didn’t really want to write to you as I think you made what you wanted from me clear. But Arthur thinks you should be there, and well, I agree. Harry would like to see you I think. 

Let me know if you’re coming. Train’s due in around 3pm. 

I promise I won’t say anything to you if you don’t want me to.

Tonks

Remus could picture her writing it, scrunched over the parchment in the way she always sat to read or write, curled over and tiny. There was a blob of ink on the signature, as if it had come into contact with water.

He balled the letter up and threw it into the fire. He’d go, of course he’d go. Harry was too important to him not to go. But if he remained looking at the piece of parchment with her words scrawled over it for any longer, the piece of parchment that radiated her feelings, he’d go to her and hug her and then where the hell would he be. There were reasons he’d spent years practicing his self control. 

Instead, he pushed the letter to Hunter away and grabbed a new piece of parchment to write his reply to Tonks.

Dear Tonks,

Thank you for your letter. You’re right that we should talk to Harry’s family. I’ll be there tomorrow.

Remus

“There. No feelings. Best that way. Don’t give in to desires. You’ll hurt someone,” he said to the owl. It hooted softly and gave him a puzzled look.

He sealed the letter, fastened it on the owl, chucked it an Owl Treat and encouraged it out the window. 

Don’t think about seeing her tomorrow, he thought. He needed to get on with those letters. Nobody else could do this job, so he was going to have to.

In the morning, he rose as usual, batting away the strange twist of nerves in his stomach. He knew exactly why that feeling was there, but also knew better than to acknowledge it. He completed his morning routine, slow and steady.

He had some things to do before he needed to be at Kings Cross. He’d agreed to meet Ottoline and Eugenia, just to get a coffee and have a chat, and then he was going to finally tackle that hole in the roof of the cottage. He’d looked up the spells he needed to fix it with magic, and if it didn’t work he just about had the gold now to hire a handyman to come and do it for him.

Some hours later, he arrived at Kings Cross slightly early for the train. He’d Apparated to a goods yard behind the station and unlocked the gate by magic to get out. He re-locked the gate before leaving; he didn’t want some Muggle station guard to get in trouble for it being unlocked. 

Remus had always had a soft spot for the station. From his second to seventh years at Hogwarts, six Septembers in a row, he’d loved the sight of the grand old building. It was the first sign of seeing his friends again. He even liked the smell of the place, all musty and weird and slightly petrol-tinged. Sirius had loved the smell too. James used to say it smelt like too many people.

They’d agreed to meet by Platform Nine and not to go onto the Hogwarts platform, so Remus had dressed in his Muggle best. He needed to buy some new Muggle clothes when he got a chance. He’d ripped his last t-shirt the night of the last full moon, and his only shirt was in desperate need of a wash. He’d had to resort to a jumper with nothing underneath, and an overcoat to hide the really quite big holes in the jumper’s left sleeve.

Mad-Eye was already there. “Alright, Lupin?” he asked, as Remus approached. He was leaning against a railing, eating a sandwich.

“Just fixed my roof,” said Remus. “It’s been leaking since about 1990.”

“I remember that damned roof,” said Mad-Eye. “Tonks crashed over onto the bucket that time we met at yours in the rainstorm and covered me in water. Ruined my boot.”

Remus had forgotten that story. They’d met there to go over known Death Eater properties and to attempt to highlight their existence to the Ministry to get some help with watching them. The Ministry had not been admitting Voldemort was back and so had flatly refused to do anything official. But, with their contacts in the Auror Department and Arthur’s Muggle Artefacts team there was scope for catching Death Eaters officially under other grounds. Tonks had been particularly clumsy that day. As well as the bucket incident, Remus had lost two mugs and the bathroom mirror.

They were happily trading stories of injuries Tonks had caused them when the woman herself showed up on the platform, accompanied by Arthur and Molly. Fred and George were behind them. 

“Talking about me?” she asked cheerfully, although the usual glint of mischief in her eyes had disappeared.

“All bad things,” said Mad-Eye.

“Terrible,” Remus added. His heart wasn’t really in teasing her. It seemed unfair. Molly glared at him. She clearly felt the same.

Remus glared at Molly. More for something to do than because he disliked her, but she really needed to drop this matchmaker thing.

Tonks refused to speak to him the rest of the time they were at the station. In front of Harry, she was bright and bubbly, and suitably played her part in front of Harry’s aunt and uncle. In fact, she was excellent. Once they were gone, she reverted back to into her shell. She spent a few minutes talking shop with Mad-Eye about things at the Ministry, and then said her goodbyes. 

Remus felt terrible. He knew there was nothing he could do to stop her feeling this way, but it was still his fault. He too said his farewells to the Weasley’s and Mad-Eye, refusing their offer of a drink at The Burrow. He had a job for Dumbledore, he told them. 

Her face swam in his mind as he walked away. Dejected, glassy-eyed, hair hanging limply around her face. Any idiot could see that she was desperately unhappy.

Still, he thought, all the more reason to stay away. She could be happy quicker. He decided not to come in the future. He could maybe arrange to see Harry separately. 

He walked to his next destination. It wasn’t far, and he’d always been told it was a bad idea to Apparate if you were feeling particularly strong emotions. Besides, he needed to be calm and normal for this next meeting.

He arrived at the Leaky Cauldron in plenty of time, and asked Tom the barman to show him to the private parlour he’d reserved. Ordering himself a butterbeer, he made himself at home. He thought he’d finish that letter to Hunter while he waited. Somehow, he’d still not managed to finish that despite starting it hours before. 

Just as Remus dotted the ‘i’ in Lupin to finish the letter, the door to the parlour opened and Tom ushered in three people. They were all clutching bottles of bitterer, looking nervous. A tall, bearded man led the small group, his dark hair flecked with grey and his grey robes immaculate. Behind him were a woman and a teenage boy. The woman was fiddling with the hem of her sleeve, blonde hair held back with a jewelled clip.

The boy stepped in last. He was dressed in Muggle clothing, as most wizarding teenagers did outside of school. He’d have passed for a Muggle, if the t-shirt hadn’t had the name of a wizarding band across it in flashing yellow and green letters.

“I’ll leave you be, then,” said Tom, making to close the door. “Let me know if you need anything.”

“Please, have a seat,” said Remus, shifting his parchment off the table and stowing it in his back. They did. All of them made to sit at a distance from him. “You must be William.” He held out his hand to the boy, who shook it nervously. His palm was slightly sweaty.

“And you’re the werewolf? Lupin?” asked the man. “Jamieson Tolliver. My wife, Lucina.”

“Call me Remus, please,” he said. Remus shook hands with the other man, but addressed his next statement to the boy again. “Albus Dumbledore asked me to meet with you, William. I believe you were recently bitten by a werewolf.”

“Yes, at Easter,” he said, staring firmly at his trainers.

“And you’ve been in St Mungo’s since?”

“Yep. Missed exams. Been wishing for a reason to not have to take them for ages, now look.”

Remus fought back an urge to laugh. It wouldn’t have been appropriate, and the boy’s mum looked as if she trusted him little enough already.

“Dumbledore has said you’ll get the opportunity to sit them late if you wish,” Remus reassured him. “Or, if you’d prefer not to, that’s up to you.”

“He said might be able to go back to school next year,” said the boy. “That you were at school when you were a werewolf.”

“I was,” said Remus. “It wasn’t easy, but I managed. I’ve got OWLs and NEWTs, and I had friends. I went to Hogsmeade, Quidditch matches, I was in a few detentions, aside from once a month I had a fairly normal teenage life.”

“I don’t know if I want to,” William said. “I just don’t know if I can. Everything’s changed. I’m of age now, I’ll be eighteen in September, and loads of people don’t stay on to get their NEWTs. I wasn’t much of a student anyway.”

Dumbledore had given him a potted history of the boy, and unfortunately the boy was right. He was a Hufflepuff, and he did work hard at school, but had scraped a bundle of A’s in his OWLS with a few P’s.

“Education is important, William!” said his mum. “And it won’t be easy for you to get a job, now now…”

“Mum says the Ministry’s made it so werewolves can’t get jobs,” said William, looking less positive than he had done before.

“Unfortunately, your mum is right,” said Remus. “I’ve been finding it tricky to get work myself.” His task was to make the boy feel better about his condition, but Remus couldn’t bring himself to lie or even to sugarcoat stuff William would be able to find out on his own. Werewolves knew how shit their life was. Telling them it wasn’t was a good way to alienate them, not convince them.

“What do you do, then?” asked William. 

“A bit of everything. I do some work as an editor for writers of Transfiguration and Defence Against the Dark Arts books. Bit of Boggart catching and other removing of Dark Creatures. Before the current rules I occasionally took Ministry jobs, but that’s not an option now. Bookshop work. Done a few Muggle jobs. I do some work from Dumbledore, from time to time.”

“None of that I’d be much cop at.”

“You’d find something,” Remus said, with a warm smile. 

“What about girls? Can I still, you know? Do you have a girlfriend or a wife or something?”

“William!” exclaimed his mother. Remus chuckled. He was starting to quite like this kid, and he definitely didn't blame him for asking that question.

“It’s quite alright, Mrs Tolliver, I can see why he’d be concerned. You can have girlfriends, many werewolves do form attachments or relationships. Others prefer to keep it more casual. The one area we’re not sure about is what happens if werewolves father children. Relationships between werewolves and normal witches are uncommon, and there is little evidence of children born to such pairs. As for me, I’m not interested in a girlfriend.”

“Oh, right,” said William, eyes wide. Remus belatedly realised what the boy thought he’d meant by that statement.

“No, erm, I’m not gay,” he said, unsure of why he was getting into that level of detail with these people he didn’t know. “I just… I had to put a stop to a thing with a woman recently.” He settled on the reason he’d given the werewolves he’d met when they’d asked about Tonks.

“Ah, fair enough mate,” said William, grinning. He looked like he’d discovered a secret about one of his teachers. Remus remembered teaching the kid, so thinking about it that’s exactly what he’d done.

Mrs Tolliver looked shocked at the turn of conversation. Remus frantically tried to bring it back to where he was supposed to be.

“So,” he said, stalling for time. “Is there anything else you’d like to know from me?”

“Yeah, is it right you have to register? Mum says I do.”

“Legally, you’re supposed to,” said Remus, carefully. “I haven’t. I don’t believe in it. While there is so much prejudice against us, it can be safer for nobody to know what you are. Provided,” he said, adopting his best stern face, “that you always remain safe on the full moon nights and keep yourself from humans.”

William’s face changed back into the scared boy look of the beginning of their conversation.

“I wouldn’t ever, I don’t ever want to bite someone,” he said, a shake to his voice.

“You won’t, if you’re careful. I can help you with that. I’m here to offer my help, so if there’s anything you want then you can always call on me.”

“Do you know any other werewolves?”

“Quite a few. There’s a girl I know, Ottoline, I think you’d like to meet her. She was bitten recently too, and she’s quite close to your age. I think it’d be good for you both to have a friend. There’s quite a lot of us, and unfortunately the population is growing more rapidly than ever before.”

“Is it… is it him, Mr Lupin? You-Know-Who?” 

“I think so.”

“Mr Lupin, I’m scared.”

“Please, call me Remus. I’m scared too, William, but I think we can all get through this. Now, I know your parents will want to get you home, so I’m going to give you an address owls can find me at, and you’ll give me yours so I can write to you. And then we can arrange to meet again in a couple of weeks.”

William nodded. They exchanged pieces of parchment, Remus shook hands with Mr Tolliver again, and everyone gathered their bags to leave. 

“Hey, Mr Lupin? I thought you were a good Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher.” William shut the door behind him with that parting shot.

Remus drained the last of his butterbeer. Today had been more than he was used to. Time to go and collapse on his sofa with a book.At least he’d made a positive impression on William, had made sure Ottoline and Eugenia had somewhere safe to transform on the full moon, and had seen Harry. And finally finished that letter to Hunter.

He had just a few more days to the full moon, and he was feeling it.


	12. His Island

The moon was rising full tonight. Remus had not been able to acquire the Wolfsbane Potion this month. He’d turned down an invitation from a few of the other werewolves to transform with them. He’d broken the door of the cellar he’d used at his cottage, and he’d run out of options other than to Apparate to an uninhabited island off the coast of Scotland that he’d used before. It had been a tourist destination at one point, but Muggles had become scared of the unusual sounds that sometimes came from the island and were convinced there was a terrible beast living there.

That beast would be him.

He hated that knowledge, that people were avoiding a place because he used it to become a monster. But, he couldn't bring himself to hate the island, not in the way he hated the Shrieking Shack, the cellar at his cottage, and the various other places he’d transformed multiple times. The island had a strange beauty to it. Now, in the summer, it was infested with midges, but they tended to leave Remus well alone.

It was a rocky, hilly island, no more than a few miles across in either direction. Trees and low bushes dotted the landscape, and on the western side there was a small beach with the ruins of a village alongside it. From what Remus had discovered, from looking in Muggle history books related to the area, the island had been inhabited until 1912. The remaining villagers had moved to the neighbouring, bigger island afterwards. There had been too few of them to maintain their own island, and Remus suspected the memories were too much for them.

Most of the houses in the old village were likely to be dangerous to enter, with walls falling all over the place. Last time he’d visited for a full moon, Remus had nearly given himself concussion when he decided to go into one of them and he’d dislodged several roof tiles. He’d stayed away from that one this time. Instead, he’d gone into his usual house. It was not the largest, or the smallest, but had five comfortable sized rooms, an outdoor toilet that by some miracle still worked, and a wood-burner.

He kept small cache of items in that house, stored in an old dresser on the upper floor. They were safe there. The wolf could climb stairs if needed, but it preferred not to. He had some old robes and Muggle clothing, a few books, some non-perishable foods and a small first-aid kit of pain relieving potions, some cuts paste, and bandages. Molly Weasley brewed them for him from time to time, and always made sure he had enough. There was a bed in the room too, useful for sleeping if he’d had a rough night as the wolf.

It was there that Remus tended to wait until close to moonrise. He was sat reading a book, a wizarding novel about a woman who was in love with a vampire. It was quite well written, he thought, but an utterly terrible premise. He had no idea how he’d even ended up owning this book, but some idea how it had got left out here. However terrible the book, he’d always struggled with getting rid of one.

Reaching the end of chapter ten, he put the book away and stood up. The view from the window was beautiful, all sea crashing on on the beach and the mist-shrouded sight of the nearest island in the distance. Beyond that, the sun was setting. It was nearly time.

He took the steps downstairs, away from his store of belongings. Not looking behind him, he started the trek away from the village up into the hills. He preferred to transform away from the village. It reduced the chances of him smashing up any of the items that would be useful to him in the daylight. 

The sun was gone by the time he reached the peak of a hill. He sat down to wait, and watched the sky. This was the worst part. There was absolutely nothing he could do now to stop the monster coming forth. 

He awoke from the transformation sprawled on a hillside, a mile or so from where he’d started. He performed the usual checking of himself after a full moon. All body parts were still attached. Good. No major bleeding or broken bones, also good. Some minor cuts and scrapes, but nothing he couldn’t fix himself this month. A taste of blood in his mouth - a rabbit most likely. He hated the taste of animal blood. He was a vegetarian the other twenty-seven days and nights of the lunar calendar.

His checks complete, Remus scraped himself up from the floor. There was a huge grass stain on his leg. He picked his way over the rocks and grass gingerly, not wanting to disturb the cuts and scrapes too much before he could get them fixed up. It had been a mild night, all things considered. He felt weak, but reasonably able to move. His injuries were minor. The wolf preferred the freedom of places like this, the ability to get out and kill even if it was only rabbit. Remus liked the easier days after, but resented that the werewolf preferred the access to prey. He was not a man who needed access to prey. 

But of course he had killed. The Death Eater in the barn still weighed heavily on his mind, even though everyone who knew of his actions there had told him it did not reflect badly on him. Occasionally, Remus would catch sight of himself in a mirror, and think ‘this man is a killer’. It made a change from the usual ‘this man is a beast’, at least. He’d never replaced the bathroom mirror after Tonks had broken it.

He didn’t like being capable of killing.

He climbed back over the broken down village wall, past the old chapel and the school-house, and into his house. He decided against a pain potion. The ones that he was able to brew had side-effects of drowsiness and nausea, neither of which were good for a quick escape from the island, and his more difficult, potent ones were for worse occasions. They were harder to come by, as he had no hope of brewing them himself. He added some paste to a few of the worse cuts, and used a pot and some water from his wand to clean the worst of the mud and grass stains off himself.

That was better. He changed into some fresh clothes, robes, they helped him feel more wizard than beast after a full moon, and climbed into the bed. He might have had a good night, but he still needed a few hours rest before he left the island. He had Splinched himself seven times before trying to Apparate too soon after a transformation. 

On waking, he checked all the wounds again. Everything was healing nicely. Without much else to do, he made ready to leave, stashing all his belongings back where they came from and packing the items to take into his robes pockets. He’d need more healing paste for next time he came back here.

Apparating away, he landed in Hogsmeade and began walking up to Hogwarts castle. With the students on their summer holidays, the staff each year did a sweep of the school, doing minor repairs, improvements and renewing spells. With Voldemort back, officially, the Ministry had been asked to help with adding some extra security to the castle. Remus had also been asked to help.

After the whole incident with Peter Pettigrew, Sirius, Snape and Harry and his friends, Dumbledore had for the first time ever found out about the Marauders Map. Remus almost certainly should have told him earlier. Dumbledore had assured him that had been forgiven, but Remus hadn’t yet forgiven himself. He’d just wanted friends and to be needed again, and it had all backfired on him anyway so he might as well have given Dumbledore the Map. Dumbledore had been more interested in the expertise Remus had on how the castle worked, and with Wormtail having the same knowledge, it was important any gaps in the Hogwarts armour were plugged. 

So it was to that end that Remus was entering the huge wooden doors into the Entrance Hall to meet with the Ministry crew.

He recognised two of the group. There was Dawlish from the Auror Office, who had an exceptional memory for defensive spellwork but had remained firmly loyal to Fudge, according to Kingsley, and George Weasley. Both made sense as choices. The other two he didn’t recognise. The man was grey-haired and wearing long, yellow robes, the witch blonde and wearing grey with silver trim. They were probably with the Ministry, Remus would have recognised most of the school staff at least by sight.

“Hello, George,” said Remus. “No Fred?”

“Manning the fort at the shop,” said George with a grin. “Business is excellent, as always, and we couldn’t spare both of us. Got to visit us some time, Remus mate, we’ll give you a discount!”

“I’ll have to see when I can get down there,” he said, despite having no real inclination to visit a joke shop. “Been busy with… work.” Remus knew George knew what he was up to, but thought it was unwise the rest of the group had even the first clue.

“You must be Remus Lupin, the other expert on the tunnels and hidden parts of this place,” said the grey and silver witch, coming over to shake his hand. “I’m Imelda Jenid. I’m with the Department for Magical Law Enforcement, expert on ancient magical artefacts. Everyone calls me Immy. That there’s Dawlish, from the Aurors, and Stanley Pryce, from the Department of Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. He’s taking on the Forest and the creatures within it.”  
Remus fought back an instant dislike for Pryce, as he always had to do when faced with people from that department. Pryce clearly knew what he was, too, as when Remus started forwards to shake hands with the two wizards he stepped neatly back, leaving Remus to shake Dawlish’s hand and then stick his hand out into the air near where Pryce had been. George Weasley leapt forwards, shaking Remus’ hand with such gusto that the grey-haired wizard gave him a look of huge distaste.

“We’re just waiting for a few more people before we get started,” said Immy. “A couple from the school, and one more from the Aurors. Ah, here’s the school reps down! Does everyone know Severus Snape and Minerva McGonagall? Ah, Pryce, you and Snape haven’t met? Severus teaches Potions here at the school, and…”

“I’ve been tuning her out most the time I’ve been here,” whispered George. “Kingsley says she’s good, really good at what she does, but he recommended ear-plugs. Fred and I are working on a line of ear-plugs actually, that tune out the person you don’t want to hear while still allowing you to hear everyone else perfectly. Great for when you don’t want to listen to your mother.”

Minerva shushed him with a fierceness she usually reserved for the worst of troublemakers.

“This is very serious business, Mr Weasley, and if you cannot carry it out with a level of maturity expected from an adult, then you can leave now.”

“Sorry, Professor,” mumbled George.

“Sorry I’m late!” It was a female voice, calling from the doorway of the Entrance Hall. Remus swung around, with a leap in his belly. Was it going to be her?

No. The Auror coming up across the stone floor was not Tonks. They might sound similar, but it wasn’t her. The woman was tall, black-haired and had a stern look to her.

“Hello Esther!” Immy scuttled forwards to greet the newest arrival. “Glad you’re here. Are you free for the day, or will you need to go back at any time?”

The others were organising the plans for the day. Remus started pulling at the thread on the end of his robes’ sleeve. He didn’t want to see Tonks. Seeing her would complicate things. So why was he so damn disappointed it hadn’t been her that had walked through the door? This wasn’t normal. He needed to get her out of his head, or he’d never be able to focus.

“Remus? Remus, are you even listening?” George Weasley interrupted his thoughts. “You’re with me, secret passageways. Honestly, mate, I thought you were the type to listen. Nearly didn’t myself. Good job one of us is on the ball. Let’s get going. Let’s do Gregory the Smarmy first, nice easy starter. Got off with Angelina Johnson once in the passageway there, this was before Fred fancied her, obviously. Lee took a Hufflepuff down there and claims he got all the way, but I reckon he’s lying because…”

Maybe a day with George would help. It would certainly be distracting.


	13. Find Yourself

The further Remus disappeared into the world of the other werewolves, the more he lost track of the rest of the wizarding world. He went to several more rallies, each of them copies of the first in style. Fenrir Greyback or sometimes one of his allies would deliver a speech from the podium. They got gradually more incendiary and anti-wizard, capitalising on the terrible treatment wizards gave werewolves and the anger that caused. 

Over the time, more and more of the werewolves were getting close to the front at these events. They’d listen in to Greyback and his minions with hunger in their eyes. Remus understood why, although he didn’t agree with any of it. He got the desire to change things. They wanted revenge for how they’d been treated. 

In contrast, a perhaps equally large group of werewolves were hanging further back. These were the ones Remus was talking to most, carefully crafting networks and alliances amongst them to stop any of them becoming tempted by Greyback’s proposals. It was difficult work, as he was still trying to remain under the alpha wolf’s radar. So far, he was managing it. Greyback and his pack were focusing mainly on those who were proving easy to reel in, and were uninterested in the quiet werewolf who went by the name of John.

Remus had time for little else, but he finally made good on his promise to visit Fred and George at their joke shop in Diagon Alley. It was quiet, with Hogwarts kids all at school and few other shoppers visiting on weekdays with threat levels high. The three of them had an enjoyable day doing what Fred and George called ‘stock development’ and Remus called ‘highly dangerous messing around with potions’ in the back of the shop, emerging out occasionally to serve a customer.

He liked Fred and George. They were uncomplicated, accepted him for what he was without having to allude to it half the time, and smarter than he’d realised. They had to be, or they’d have been blown up several times over by now. Remus had only narrowly escaped his day with them with all his facial features intact. They were fun.

So were some of his werewolf friends. Without intending to, he’d formed a pack of his own. They were mostly all living together now. They had the run of an old house that belonged to Ottoline and Eugenia’s family. As a famous, old, pureblood family, they had money to throw at the problem of two werewolf daughters. They’d been the first recruits to Remus’ little pack, along with Anna and the boy who’d left Hogwarts, William. Mike had declined to join them, preferring to remain alone, but Remus considered him friendly.

They’d collected a few other werewolves over the months, starting with some of the others he’d met at the rally. All of them were at least distrustful of Greyback, if not necessarily in agreement with Remus’ views. They came from a variety of backgrounds and had a range of experiences of wizards and of other werewolves. But somehow, it worked. In total, they numbered twenty.

Remus was considered the pack alpha, something he’d never been expecting. Ottoline and Anna had made it very clear that he was expected to take up that role.

“You’re the most powerful amongst us, and that’s how werewolves work,” Anna had said with a shrug. 

The other two starting members of the pack, Eugenia and William, had agreed, and the others that joined stayed in line.

It was that role that lead Remus to be standing in front of his full pack, two days before the full moon, explaining how they would all be travelling to his island for a full moon to run as a pack this month.

“We’ll Apparate,” he said, “those who can helping those who can’t. I want us to experience running as a pack. We do everything else together, we should do this as well.” 

In truth, he’d been less than convinced about this idea. It had been Anna’s in the first place. She thought it would cement the bonds between the werewolves. He was worried something would go wrong, but he did enjoy the company of the other werewolves and in the end had been easily persuaded. 

“Why can’t we do that here?” asked an older wolf, who went by the name of Atticus. He’d been in packs before, Remus recalled, and had experience of how all of this worked. 

“We’re too near to humans,” Remus replied. “It could be dangerous, and we don’t want to risk hurting, infecting or killing any humans.”

“I doubt there’d be a risk,” said Atticus grumpily.

“Well, I don’t want even the slightest risk of infecting or killing someone,” piped up Sam. He was a man in his mid-twenties, with blond hair down his back, who’d joined the pack early on. Along with Anna and Ottoline, he’d become something of a second-in-command to Remus. “We’re in John’s pack. We don’t hurt humans.”

There was a slight argument, between those who felt any risk was too much and those who felt the risk of staying here was too small to be important. Remus sat back, and listened to his wolves argue. He was sure that most other wolf packs were run along far more dictatorial lines, with the alpha and sometimes his closest wolves making all the decisions, but Remus preferred to give his pack a say. He was just pleased that nobody was arguing that hurting humans was acceptable. 

“Thank you everyone,” he said at last. The wolves stopped arguing and listened to him. “I appreciate what you’re saying, Atticus.” He nodded to the older wolf. “But this is the first time we’ll have run as a pack. If all goes well on the island, we can stay here in the future.”

This seemed to settle it. Nobody looked angry. Sometimes in other packs there would be a fight at this point. Remus’ pack had got close a couple of times, usually when new people joined, but had never yet got physical. This was another thing that pleased him. For starters, he’d likely have lost any physical fight he’d been involved in.

At his direction, some of the other pack members had started preparing for the full moon. Ottoline had been tasked with finding supplies so that all the werewolves could rest on the island after their transformations. She procured tents and sleeping bags, and enough cups and plates so that they could all eat and drink. Anna was surprisingly good at simple healing spells and potions, and was in charge of basic medical care. Others from the pack were given other tasks that suited their skills. All of them practiced Side-Along Apparition.

Remus had to admit, standing on the hillside on his island with his pack, that he could see the appeal of pack life. And to being in charge. He felt strangely powerful. He had friends, and friends who would do as he said. They might argue, or throw around different viewpoints, but he’d said for them to come here and here they all were.

He had never wanted to be a leader, necessarily. At school, James and Sirius had done most of the leadership. They’d thrown out ideas, and he’d worked out how to make them work. They’d cajoled him and Peter into things. In the first war, he’d taken direction from Albus, Mad-Eye, Edgar Bones and the other more experienced members of the Order. This time, he was in charge, and he liked it.

He also suspected this could quickly go to his head. He turned to Anna.

“How long do you think?”

“A few more minutes?” she replied, looking around at the pack. She liked this too. It was the sense of belonging Remus liked just as much as the leadership. They didn’t need to hide who they were here. They could just be.

“John?” said a voice from the back. “What will happen when the moon rises? Will we all transform together?” It was Archer, the youngest member of the pack. He was just fourteen, and bitter. His parents had sent him to his grandparents when he’d been bitten at the age of eight, who had sent him to his other set of grandparents, and they’d in turn sent him to an uncle. The uncle had tried to beat the wolf out of him. He'd joined the pack to have someone look after him, Remus suspected. Someone who seemed safer than the alternatives.

“Yes,” Remus replied to him, but addressing the pack as a whole. “We’ll transform together. And I know some of you are a bit nervous about this. Most of you haven’t transformed with another werewolf before, and definitely not this many of us. It’s okay to be nervous. Some werewolves will tell you we shouldn’t ever doubt our nature, or be scared or nervous of it, but that’s not right. I’ve been transforming for thirty years, and I’m nervous every moon. Mike’s been transforming for fifty. Still nervous?”

“Every time,” said Mike. Remus had suggested the big Scotsman joined them for this as a courtesy, and hadn’t expected him to agree. Mike had seemed keen, in fact.

“See? It’s okay to be a bit worried about what you can do. But we’re all together, and in the morning we’ll still be together. We’re pack.” He wasn’t sure this was going how he’d planned it. Or wouldn’t be, if he’d planned it at all. He didn’t have the speaking skills of those who spoke at the big werewolf rallies. 

“Look. I’ve never done this pack alpha thing before.” 

Was admitting weakness a good idea? Most other pack leaders didn’t. 

“Let’s work this out together. Society hates us, so we’ve got to stick together. Greyback and his lot think we should go around biting humans and making more of us. Well, making more werewolves isn’t how they’re going to accept us. I get why people are angry at the way we’re treated. We’re treated like shit!”

There was a cheer from the back of the pack. Remus was encouraged.

“We’re as good as wizards as we are. Nothing wrong with being a werewolf. And so let’s stick together and show them that without resorting to violence!”

“Yeah!” shouted William, jumping up from the rock he’d been sat on to punch the air. 

“You’re pretty good at this, you know,” said Anna from next to him.

“You even make me kind of feel okay about this,” said Eugenia. Remus didn’t think he’d ever heard her speak that many words in a row before. 

It hadn’t been a very good speech, Remus thought, but it had done the job. His mismatched pack of werewolves looked happier as the moon rose and they turned into their other selves. 

They looked less happy the next morning. To Remus’ slight surprise, the pack had transformed back into their human bodies all in roughly the same place. He had assumed they would separate up overnight. He performed his usual check of himself and found no injuries except a large cut on his left leg. And the ever-present taste of animal blood in his mouth. 

All around him, his pack were checking their own bodies. Most of them were lightly scraped, and a couple had escaped without any marks on them at all. He felt the warm sensation of belonging again. He could grow to like this lifestyle. Remus wandered through his pack, helping the members sort themselves out and directing them down to the village where they could arrange food, healing and rest for everyone.

“This is all really civilised!” said Ottoline, making her way over to Remus with a freshly-brewed cup of tea and a bacon sandwich. “Genie and I normally just collapse into bed afterwards. None of this. It’s great!”

“I reckon I could be persuaded to join you next month,” Mike said, sitting on the remains of a low wall beside her. “I’d still rather be alone the rest of the month, but there’s something about transforming together that makes it less fucking shit.”

“Yeah,” said Eugenia. 

“Are we going to do this again next month, then?” asked Archer.

“I reckon we should,” said Atticus. “It was a good idea.”

“It really was,” said Anna. 

“Best full moon yet,” said William. “Not that I’ve done many, but you guys seemed to think it was good, too, so maybe it’s as good as it can be.”

Remus realised they were all waiting for him to talk.

“Yes,” he said, slowly. “We’ll do this again next month.”

The werewolves ate, drank and talked. Most of them got some rest. Remus wove through the group, talking to the members of his pack in turn. He liked to hear their stories. They all had one, and he tried to make each of them feel as though their story mattered. He didn’t feel as though he needed to sleep, even though after most full moons he wanted to sleep for days. It was enough just to have this moment.

By mid-afternoon, they began to leave the island, Apparating back to the mainland in pairs. Remus was the last to leave. He wanted to make sure everything was straight for the next time they wanted to come to the island. Rearranging the medical supplies, he noticed a small note that had been tucked inside one of the boxed containing potions bottles that had come from Molly Weasley. He opened it.

_Wotcher, Remus!_

_Molly’s made these for you, but says she doesn’t have time to write the note, and could I before she forgets? I told her my handwriting’s atrocious and you won’t be able to read it. Does she care? No. She says yours is as bad as mine._

_Anyway, there’s two types in here apparently. The red one, in the rounded bottles, is for minor pains.If you’ve really hurt yourself, you’ll want the silvery one in the tall bottle. Trust her, because I took one of the silvery ones once and it properly hit the spot. She knows her stuff, does Molly._

_Righto. That’s what I had to say! If you’re reading this then you’re post-full moon, so you’re probably feeling pretty shit and you don’t want to read the inane ramblings of your best mate. Which is me, of course. Not Sirius. Sirius is feeding Buckbeak so I can write that without him coming along and telling me I’m wrong._

_See you at the next Order meeting! Ooh, wonder when that’ll be when you’re reading this? Maybe we’ll have got rid of You-Know-Who by then!_

_Love, Tonks xx_

Remus read the note through three times, then set fire to it with his wand. It was painful reading the cheery words, the reminders of a time when Tonks hadn’t hated him and Sirius wasn’t dead. 

Tonks. He hadn’t even thought about her in weeks. Not properly for months. He’d been shoving her existence and his feelings for her down until they were well hidden inside of him and he didn’t have to deal with that any more. Remus knew she was alive and physically okay from his basic interactions with others in the Order. Although, all of them had said there seemed to be something not quite right with her. She’d been struggling with her metamorphosing. Her Patronus had changed. She seemed to be slower in training sessions or on missions, and had stopped coming to social events and started leaving straight away after Order meetings.

All of this was second hand, of course, and out of date. He didn’t attend many Order meetings any more, it would be too suspicious for him to keep leaving the pack. Or so he told everyone. He updated the Order via Minerva, who sometimes came to see him, or Albus via owl.

And, anyway, this was all for the best. Tonks had people around her. 

Besides, Remus needed to get back to the pack.

He walked out of the little house and down into the village to Apparate away. Sat on a wall opposite was an old wizard, with a long white beard and eyes of twinkling blue. Albus Dumbledore.

“Hello, Remus. And how are things going with you this fine morning?”

“Albus. What are you doing here?”

“Looking for you, my boy.”


	14. Wizards and Werewolves

“How did you find me?”

“Oh, I have my ways. Much as I find everyone.”

“Okay,” said Remus. 

Both wizards stared at each other for a moment. Albus had picked up a piece of rock from the wall and was turning it over in his hands, examining it carefully. Remus had long suspected he did these things as a way to try and get the other person to talk first. A few years back, it had worked on Remus every time. Now, less so. He considered picking up a rock of his own, but he was tired, aching and groggy from the full moon and didn’t have the patience to wait it out. 

“Should I ask why you’re finding me?”

“I just thought I’d check in on you, and see how things were going with your task,” Albus said, not looking up from his rock. 

“Well, I don’t know how long you’ve been here and what you’ve seen,” said Remus. He didn’t like non-werewolves being here. It had been enough to adjust to the idea of other werewolves in his space, his pack, but a human? This wasn’t quite right. “There’s a pack of just over twenty werewolves, all at least skeptical of Greyback and his offer. We’ve been working on shoring up resistance to his views within the pack, and slowly adding to our numbers through contacts. I’ve also got six or seven friendly werewolves outside of the pack, who are in accordance with our opinions but for some reason don’t want to join pack life.”

“You’ve done well. Nobody else could have achieved this, Remus. Do you think it’s enough?” asked Albus.

“Enough?” asked Remus.

“Yes, my boy, enough.”

Remus thought about it. His research, analysing news reports and information from his network of werewolves, suggested there were maybe 250 werewolves in the country. Therefore, he’d manage to convince maybe a tenth of them not to join Voldemort. Of the remaining ninety percent, he estimated at least fifty were very definitely with Greyback and Voldemort, forming an inner core. Others hung around that group.Maybe another fifty or so. Although it was unclear how involved they were or exactly what their views were, it was likely that they were aligned with those of Voldemort.

That still left over a hundred werewolves unaccounted for.

“No,” said Remus. “It’s not enough.”

“Unfortunately, I suspect you are right,” said Albus. “We may need to approach some of the other werewolves, perhaps even those in Mr Greyback’s outer circle. I suspect, like you, that the inner circle are a lost cause.”

At least Albus read his reports thoroughly, Remus thought. Not that the man was giving him any answers to the problems his reports had frequently posed. 

“And, unfortunately,” Albus continued, “it is likely you are the only person who can influence this.”

“Yes,” said Remus. “Unfortunately, this is probably true.” If he was honest, it was fine with him. The note from Tonks had made him nervous and jittery. He’d hoped his feelings for her would wane with time and distance. If anything, they seemed to have got stronger. If he was to leave the werewolves now, go back to the Order and seeing her regularly, he had no idea what he’d do. Jump her, possibly. Push her up against a wall and kiss her. He’d ask first, of course. Maybe he could persuade her into a room where nobody else was likely to go…

Fuck’s sake, he thought to himself, get a grip.

And these thoughts while standing in front of Albus, who had at least a grasp of Legilimency! 

Remus couldn’t pretend this was the first time he’d had these thoughts, even if it was a new low for him having them mid-conversation with his old headmaster. He’d allowed himself to languish in them before, when he was alone. They weren’t always overtly sexual. Some featured them sitting together enjoying a meal or a drink, holding hands. A few featured marriage, and one particularly confusing daydream a child with Tonks’ bright pink hair and his nose. 

Werewolves don’t breed, he reminded himself. 

He felt vaguely dirty each time he had these thoughts. It wasn’t normal to fantasise about someone you could never be with this much. Was it? He’d taken to grabbing scraps of parchment when this happened, and writing a list to himself of all the reasons he had to stay away from her. Too old, too poor, too dangerous, and a whole host of other reasons. The last few times he’d taken to adding ‘because I love her too much to make her life as shit as it would be with me’ as the last one.

Albus cleared his throat.

“Mr Lupin, I hate to have to set a limit on our time together but I am an incredibly busy man. And sadly, growing busier as the death and destruction continue. Your role in reducing this is so very important. Do you think you can try to tackle some of the less immediately friendly werewolves? Perhaps your friends can help you? There were some I recognised from Hogwarts in there who may be of some use.”

“Plenty of the werewolves who haven’t been to school are of use,” said Remus, feeling the need to defend his pack. “It’s exactly that kind of attitude that gets their backs up, Albus.” 

“Of course, Remus, and I do apologise for any offence. I don’t mean to say that, shall we say, untrained in the ways of wand use and magic werewolves are of no use. Quite the contrary. I imagine they have skills others do not. But that the ones who have received some training and education may also be able to travel easily around the country by means of Apparition, and such like.”

“All of my pack can be of use somewhere,” said Remus. “It’s just a matter of where. I’m confident in their loyalties.”

“Your pack, is it? Well done, Remus. I knew you had this in you. You are an exceptional wizard, perhaps no match for myself, but a talent none the less.”

This was probably as close to a compliment as Remus would ever get from Albus Dumbledore, he thought. Best to take it as intended that way.

“What do you think I should do?” asked Remus, although he was almost certain of the answer.

“You are our werewolf expert, I daresay you would know better than I,” said Albus. with a glint of something like mischief in his eye. “And now I must be taking my leave. I hope to see you at an Order meeting in the new future. Ah, yes. Molly told me to invite you for Christmas at the Burrow.”

“It’s October,” said Remus, baffled.

“She says a good party is never planned too early,” replied his old headmaster. “Good day, Remus.” The older wizard carefully replaced the rock back onto the wall and in one smooth motion Apparated away. 

“Bonkers,” said Remus, not intentionally out loud, and Apparated from the island himself.

He arrived back to the pack’s house in chaos. Remus had vowed early on in the process to never turn his wand on one of the werewolves unless in an emergency, and the scenes in front of him seemed to constitute exactly that. Most of his pack were standing around the edges of the main living room and socialising space of the house, with five people in the centre. Four were screaming at each other, three of them with wands also raised.

“Remus!” shouted Anna, running in from the kitchen. “I’ve just sent you an owl, Eugenia’s…”

Her words were interrupted by said owl crashing into the side of his head in it’s haste to find him. Despite knowing it was unnecessary, he began to remove the letter from the owl’s leg. It felt only polite not to ignore the bird, even if he was likely to have a headache later from the force of it’s collision with him.

The owl flew off. Remus turned his attention to what was going on in the middle of the room. 

“You dick! You fuckwad! You absolute arse of a man!” Ottoline was screaming just about every insult she could come up with at a man Remus didn’t recognise in the centre of the room. He wand was raised, as was William’s behind her. He was shouting at everyone to calm down. Sam stood to one side, with the main body of the pack. He had no wand, but looked ready to intervene physically if needs be. So did a few of the others.

The man Ottoline was shouting at was shouting at Eugenia. He had short, dark hair and a fat stubby nose. Tall and broad, he cast an intimidating shadow. Remus vaguely remembered him from somewhere. He looked too old to have been at Hogwarts when he taught, but not by much. Perhaps he had a younger sibling there. 

The important point was not who he was, anyway, but what he might do.

“First you go and get yourself bitten, then you join some fucking pack of your lot, you fat bitch!” he was screaming at Eugenia. “Who, or what, do you think you are? Fucking disgrace, you are, using good pureblood money to fund this cesspit! You’re giving your family a bad name! You’re giving me a bad name, I fucking associated with you for years!”  
“I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” Eugenia was screaming back. “I never wanted this, I didn’t… I’m just trying to do the best I can…”

“You’re the fucking one giving people a bad name!” Ottoline was shouting, brandishing her wand but still not casting any spells. “Twatfaced!”

“And you!” he rounded on Ottoline. “Knew you were trouble from the off, a silly girl who can’t keep her mouth shut. Or her legs. Bet your sister’s going the same way.” He swung back to Eugenia, getting right up in her face. His eyes were full of anger, his face distorted with hate. “Looks like she’s shagging some werewolf. Are you? A monster, fucking monsters, having tiny little monster babies to keep ruining the wizarding world!”

Remus had heard enough. He was a horrible, foul mouthed piece of work, whoever he was. 

“Silencio!” he shouted, and the man fell silent.

In retrospect, this had been a poor choice of spell. The man spun around, and with speed started to shoot wordless hexes and curses at Remus. Remus parried back, shouting to the others to get out of the way. The other man was fast, even silenced, and Remus was having to work hard to keep him at bay. No innocents needed to be harmed in this.

The man flung a fireball at him, a spell Remus didn’t know. He leapt over it, landing badly and being forced into a roll to avoid a Stunning Spell shooting straight after it. Back on his feet, Remus concentrated on defending, pushing his assailant towards the door and away from his pack with deflections and Shield Charms. A well-aimed Jelly Legs Jinx bought Remus some time; the other man had to turn his wand away from Remus to cancel the effects of the spell and it gave him a chance to check his pack was protected. 

The pack had shrunk into a corner, marshalled by Sam, and with quick-thinking from William a Shield Charm was being maintained around them by a few who had wands. Eugenia was being herded from the room by Anna.

Remus had checked too long. His opponent had unjinxed his legs, and brought back his own voice, and there was a yell of “Sectumsempra!” from him. Remus leapt to avoid the curse, casting his a Shield Charm as he did so, but was slightly too slow for it. He felt the curse collide with the top of his head with a searing pain, and felt the blood leak out of his forehead. 

This had made the duel more serious. Both of them were shooting spells at the other with ferocious speed, mostly hexes from Remus and stronger curses from his opponent. His style was showier and he had less power behind each spell than Remus, who was slowly gaining the upper hand in the fight. Remus had the better aim, too, with more of his spells hitting the mark. Finally, with a successful Furnunculus from Remus, the other man turned and ran out of the house and away down the path, sprouting tentacles.

Remus didn’t lower his wand, but chased him as far as the doorway. Behind him, a huge cheer went up from the assembled werewolves. 

“Fucking hell, Professor,” said William, who’d never got out of the habit of referring to Remus by that title and had caused an accidental leak of his real name within the pack when he’d explained why to the other werewolves. “You were amazing! Seriously good fighting!”

Remus was enveloped in a crowd of werewolves, all wanting to slap him on the back or hug him and congratulate him on getting rid of the interloper. The man must have been fairly stupid, he thought, to have come in a room full of werewolves and insult him. It turned out it had only been for Sam and William persuading them not to that none of the others had tried to fight him. Remus had missed that memo. But then, as pack leader, it was essentially his decision whether or not to fight. He felt he’d acquitted himself rather well.

“Remus, you’re bleeding still,” said Ottoline, when she’d squashed her way through the pack to him. He put his hand to his forehead. Now she’d reminded him of this fact, he realised there was a lot of blood. “Let’s get you to Anna and get you cleared up,” she continued.

“I’m fine,” he said, despite feeling a bit light headed. “I’d like to check on Eugenia first.”

“Plenty of time for that,” said Sam, now at his other side. 

“Who was that man, threatening her like that?” asked Remus, allowing himself to be steered out of the room by Sam and Ottoline. Those two had a skill at getting their own way. 

“Oh, yeah, you wouldn’t know,” said Ottoline. “That was Warrington, her ex-fiance. Twatbags, I like to call him since he dumped her. Hates werewolves with a passion. Ironic really, seeing as you keep saying what’s his face, Greyback, wants the werewolves to join You-Know-Who and I reckon Warrington is sniffing round You-Know-Who’s lot. Nasty piece of work.”

“Looked it,” said Sam. “Eyes on him, he had evil eyes Remus you mark my words.”

Remus trusted Sam’s judgement, on the whole. He’d seen that look in the other man’s eyes too. He recognised the name Warrington though. And the face was familiar, but not entirely.

“Where did she meet him?” Remus asked, hoping it would help him work out where he knew the name from.

“Hogwarts,” said Ottoline. “They started going out in seventh year, he proposed a year and a half later. They were due to get married this summer, but of course that was scuppered.”

Ah, that was it. There had been a Warrington at Hogwarts. A younger brother, maybe, Remus couldn’t remember how old he had been when he was teaching. A Slytherin, though, he remembered that much.

They reached the kitchen, where Anna had Eugenia sat at the dining table with a hot drink and some chocolate. Anna leapt up when she saw Remus wander in, now half propped up by the other two and bleeding profusely. 

“Remus! What happened?!”

“Curse to the head,” he said, “nothing serious.”

“Men,” said Anna. “Never admit to weakness. Ends in stupidity, every time. No offence, Sam dear. Could you get the mop? Remus has made a mess, not that it’s his fault exactly.”

“No, it’s twatbags’ fault,” said Ottoline, earning herself a glare from Anna.

“I’ll send you to get the mop if you can’t be helpful,” said Anna. “Get me the pain potions Remus’ Molly sends, and some of that salve.”

“Didn’t know the mop was a punishment,” said Sam with a grin, getting it anyway. Anna could have been an excellent teacher, Remus reflected. People did what she asked, on the whole, even some of the werewolves who felt a man should be in charge of a pack.

Remus allowed himself once more to be steered around, and sat in the chair he was encouraged into. Anna began to swab at his face to clean away the worst of the blood. He heard the scatter of fast-moving feet on the tiles as Ottoline arrived with the medical supplies. Being a good patient, he didn’t move as Anna fussed around him with her wand and the supplies until she deemed him fixed. 

“Are you okay, Eugenia?” he asked, as a steaming cup of tea was placed in front of him too. 

“I actually loved him,” she said, by way of answer. “I started liking him in fourth year. I thought he was lovely. We’d have had a beautiful wedding, and probably beautiful kids who’d have gone to Hogwarts. The pureblood girl’s dream.”

“Dreams don’t always work out,” said Remus.

“Good riddance, too,” said Ottoline. Anna gave her another glare. “Sorry, but it’s true.”

“I think she’s right,” said Eugenia. “It’s just hard, you know. Mum brought us up to make nice marriages and she never really told us about much else. So that’s my whole future gone now, and I don’t know what else I’m going to do! I can’t even have my job!”

“What we’re going to do,” said Remus, “is defeat Voldemort and sort out the wizarding world, and then you can have your job back at the very least. And maybe someone will sort something so werewolves can have children safely, as I can’t at this stage promise you that.”

“Thank you, Remus,” she said. “You do a lot for us. You’ve saved us a bit. Otherwise I don’t know where we’d be.”

“We wouldn’t have to share this house with a tonne of stinking men,” said Ottoline. “Again, no offence Sam.”

“None taken, but I might start to soon,” said Sam, who was putting the finishing touches to cleaning the floor. “I notice offence was meant to Remus though. Might need to take a bath there, Professor.”

“You might all want to stop insulting the leader of the pack, else he chucks you out,” said Remus, with what he hoped was a light tone. He was starting to get the hang of this gentle ribbing between friends now, or so he hoped. It could all be falling horrifically flat still.

Anna cleared out Sam and Ottoline from the room on the grounds of wanting them to check on the rest of the wolves. She probably just wanted them to stop talking, Remus thought.

When they’d gone, Eugenia got up to leave to. She turned to Remus.

“Why don’t some wizards like us? What did we ever do to them?”

“Some werewolves have given us a bad name, Greyback and the like. Some people think we’re all like them and they’re scared. Sometimes people aren’t all that accepting of things that aren’t what they already know. But lots don’t mind werewolves and will treat us normally, or can be persuaded to if we can explain things to them.”

“You had a girl right? Did that end because you’re a werewolf?”

“I was a werewolf long before I met her. It never started, not really anyway, because of that, yes.”

“I’m going to go for a bath,” said Eugenia, and left. She slunk from the room with an air of complete sadness. Remus really felt for her. If he thought leaving Tonks behind was bad, then she’d left a proper romance. He’d known since childhood marriage wasn’t for him, but she’d had that dream ripped away.

“You’re exceptional, you know that?” said Anna, slipping into Eugenia’s vacated chair beside him. “You manage to handle everything here so well, and you really do do so much for us all.”

“I don’t do more than anyone else, and I do a lot less than I should,” said Remus, thinking about what Albus had told him earlier that day. It felt longer ago than that now. He remembered Anna’s history; the husband and kids she’d had to leave behind. “You all cope with so much more than me. I’ve known my life will be like this, it must be a shock to have it all taken away like so many others of you.”

“I miss my kids every day,” she said. “But like you said, if we can get rid of You-Know-Who and get a better future for wizards, then we can include ourselves into that. And maybe we can find happiness anyway. Within the pack, I mean. If we can find other werewolves to be with, then we don’t have any of those problems of normal wizards and witches not accepting us for who we are.”

“I hope you do find someone, Anna,” he said. “You deserve it.”

“So do you,” she said, giving him a long, hard look that he didn’t understand. “Maybe more than anyone else. See, most the rest of us have at least experienced normality. You’ve not, have you?”


	15. Spy Team

Almost against his wishes, Remus accepted the invitation to Christmas with the Weasley family. Harry was to be there, who Remus very much wanted to see, and the twins, who were always good company. It wasn’t that he had a problem with any of the others, but that he found the large grouping exhausting at times. Especially since he was always in a group these days. He never got any time just to be.

In the meantime, there was work to do. He’d given a lot of thought to Albus’ words and been forced to conclude that the old man was right. He had done a lot since the beginning of the summer, with his pack and with making connections elsewhere, but it wasn’t enough. He had no real idea what Fenrir Greyback was doing. There were so many werewolves he hadn’t even attempted to convince. He needed to do more.

Slowly, he had come up with a plan. His pack was stable, probably stable enough that his presence was no longer required full time. He could leave Anna and Sam in charge; Sam officially, with Anna to advise. Sam was well-respected, a non-wand carrier, and physically strong. Even his less trusting werewolves likes Sam and would listen to him. He had less obvious leadership skills than Remus, but with Anna to advise he would be fine. Anna would have been the better leader, in many respects, but some of them wouldn’t have taken to her. They accepted Remus well, but a few had a natural distrust of those with wands that they may not be able to get past for Anna.

He would go to another pack, and spy. 

As predicted, the plan went down badly with his closest circle of werewolves within the pack. Sam questioned him briefly, but seemed content that Remus knew best. The leadership position was likely have helping with his acceptance of the situation.

Anna was worried. She twisted a strand of dark brown hair around a finger as Remus spoke, and tapped her fingers on the arm of the sofa she was sat on as he answered Sam’s questions. She thought he’d get hurt, that it would be dangerous. She sounded an awful lot like Tonks. Or Molly. Somewhere between the two. Ultimately, she agreed to the plan if he checked back in regularly.

Atticus and William thought it was a great idea. William had become more and more interested in the anti-Voldemort activities Remus was involved in, and was making noises about wanting to help. Eugenia wanted him to stay, but Sam had promised to look after her and to fight Warrington if he came back again, so she too agreed.

This left Ottoline. She had started off incredibly keen, and then had realised that Remus had not intended to take her with him and had began to protest. Loudly. With much swearing. 

“I can’t take you,” he repeated for what he thought was the eighteenth time. “I’ve got to be a spy, so doing things secretly and with as little attention drawn to me as possible. The more of us there are, the more difficult it becomes.” What he didn’t say was that she did rather lack the ability to be quiet and keep her thoughts to herself that a spy would need.

“I agree with Ottoline,” Anna piped up. “It’s a dangerous job, you should have back-up. If not her, then someone else.”

“I’ll do it,” said William. “I can help the Professor out. I’m not bad at fighting the Muggle way if we can’t use wands, and I can keep my mouth shut when I need to and just listen.” Perhaps he was thinking the same thing about Ottoline as Remus was.

“I’m fine with that,” said Anna.

“I’m not!” shouted Ottoline. “You all seem to think I’m a bit useless, I want to do something!”

In the end Remus gave in, and agreed to take both William and Ottoline with him. 

They planned to leave within a day of the agreement. Remus explained the situation to the rest of the pack, who backed him and agreed to Sam as leader until Remus’ return. Sam was given advice on coping with the pack, and Anna too, and Eugenia was reassured that she would be safe until their return. They promised to return within a month, at least for a flying visit.

Tonks would not be pleased by this turn of events, Remus reflected as he waited for Ottoline to say goodbye to her sister. She had frequently accused him of careering straight into danger, and this was in his opinion the most dangerous thing he’d done so far. It was one thing seeking out werewolves likely to be safe and with similar views to his own. It was entirely another chasing down those least likely to agree with him, and most likely to fight him. She’d have shouted at him for this one, no doubts about that. He could imagine her, in the kitchen at Grimmauld Place perhaps, hair and eyes all wild, waving her hand at him while she accused him of being selfish and stupid.

Stupid, maybe. Everyone did stupid things from time to time. But selfish? No. He was doing this for everyone else’s benefit, not for his own. He had no need to survive this thing, and others did. He believed that just as much as he had he first time he had thought it.

He still had misgivings about taking the two young werewolves with him. William was less of a worry, as long as he could stop referring to Remus as ‘Professor’ and resist the temptation to do magic. Ottoline was far more likely to cause him problems, but he’d said she could come and he couldn’t deny her usefulness in other ways. She was smart and incredibly quick on the uptake, with a skill for making friends. She had a skill for making people feel like they were getting their own way, while getting her own. She’d assured him it was the reason she had been sorted into Slytherin. Remus had been forced to admit that perhaps not all Slytherins were bad, and that maybe some of their skills could even be useful.

With Ottoline’s cunning, William’s Hufflepuff loyalty, and his own Gryffindor tendency to chuck himself into trouble at the first call, Remus realised the only think they were lacking was a spot of Ravenclaw intelligence. They’d have to do the best they could without it. He wasn’t risking any more people.

The three of them set off. They had agreed to head to Great Yarmouth again first, and try to get in with the pack there. They would Apparate the majority of the way, then make the last part on foot. These would be werewolves that distrusted any magic, so all of them would keep their wands hidden for the duration of their stay unless in emergency situations. As a condition of coming, Ottoline and William had agreed to Apparate out and raise an alarm at the first sign of trouble.

The werewolf pack was living on the outskirts of the town, in a strange warren of abandoned workers cottages, industrial buildings and underground tunnels. Remus and his companions picked their way through the debris scattered on the ground as they made their way towards the buildings occupied by the pack. 

“Where do you think they are?” asked Ottoline. “What are they doing at this time?”

“I don’t know,” said Remus. “And perhaps that’s better. Remember our agreement. We’re not supposed to know much about them.”

“I can see people,” said William. “Look, over there. They’ve seen us. They’re coming this way.”

He was right. Three men had broken away from a slightly larger group over by a row of cottages and were approaching Remus, William and Ottoline. All three of them were much of a muchness; well built, muscled men dressed in old Muggle jeans and t-shirts. One had a leather jacket thrown over the top, the others were braving the cold in their short sleeves. None of them looked at all pleased to see the three of them appearing on their territory.

When they got within talking distance, Remus stopped. He pushed Ottoline and William back slightly, ensuring he was in front, and motioned to them to stay quiet and still. He knew a little of how these sorts of interactions worked. The men from the pack would want to show their dominance, and if his plan was to succeed they’d need to allow that at least initially.

“What you doing here?” asked the man with the leather jacket.

“We’re here to join you,” said Remus. He held eye contact with the man. Even if he was intending to allow them to take control of the situation, he did not want to look weak. 

“Join what?” said the man. “There’s nowt going on here. Not that the likes of you need to be concernin’ yourself with.”

“We know what you are,” said Remus. “We’re werewolves too.”

The words changed something. Not with the man in the leather jacket, but his two accomplices behind him seemed to relax a little. 

“Who are you, and where did you find out about us?” 

“John,” Remus said, indicating himself, “and Tilly and Liam.” They’d agreed the names in advance. Not quite fake names, but not quite their own. “Another of our own told us we’d find you here.”

“Who?”

“Atticus.” The older wolf had contacts in the pack, it turned out, although not ones he was on the best of terms with. But it gave them an excuse. 

“Fordin knows Atticus,” said the man in the blue t-shirt. “He’s sound.” 

“Alright,” said the one in the leather jacket. “I’m Jack. This is Turner,” he indicated the man in the blue t-shirt, “and Kai. Come with us. You can stay for a bit, but if you’re any trouble you’re off. Right?”

“Right,” said Remus. The three of them followed the three men through the warren of buildings and down one of the tunnels. 

“Where we going?” asked William.

“Take you see the alpha,” said Jack. “I let you stay for a bit, but he’s the final decision.”

“He’s alright,” said Turner. Kai nodded.

The tunnel came up again behind a row of cottages. Whether it was the one they’d seen already Remus couldn’t tell, and that was perhaps the point. There was a line of what had used to be gardens behind them, which were now a pile of ruined fencing and weeds. Most of the doors were missing from the cottages, and Remus could see three smashed windows. He followed Jack into the second cottage along from where they were standing, through a red-painted doorway which a door hung off by one hinge. William showed no signs of being fazed by his surroundings, and Ottoline was doing a good job of pretending she wasn’t.

The inside of the house was as battered and haphazard as the outside. The back door led into a kitchen with battered units lining the walls and an oven so dirty that Remus wouldn’t want to eat anything that had been cooked on it. From there, they were taken through into a sitting room. This was at least clean, but contained sofas even more battered than the ones in Remus’ own cottage. One was patched with brown corduroy over pink floral fabric, the other was a faded blue check.

Jack gestured to them to sit, and went upstairs. Kai and Turner stood by the doorway into the kitchen, arms folded, like matching bookends either side of the doorway. Remus tried to suppress a grin. They were attempting menacing, and it didn’t work.

They waited for a few minutes in silence before Jack came back down the stairs, accompanied by a fourth man. If the three they’d met already had been bulky, this man was even more so. He was the same height as Remus, six foot three if an inch, but at least twice as wide. His arms were heavily muscled, and he looked no stranger to the Muggle way of fighting. A chunk of skin had been ripped out of his cheek at some point, leaving a heavy mass of scar tissue, and he had a fresh cut on his ear.

For a moment, each side surveyed the other. Remus could see the man looking them over closely, for signs of any unusual features. They’d tried to be as inconspicuous as possible, wearing Muggle clothes that had seen better days. Remus, dressed in jeans and a hooded jacket with a fresh cut of his own along his forehead, Ottoline in jeans, trainers and a battered puffy coat, William in joggers and a sweatshirt. 

”Who’s the girl?” the man asked.

“My daughter,” said Remus. Ottoline stole a glare at him. That hadn’t been part of the plan, but Remus had seen the way the man was looking at her and felt the need to protect her as much has he could. He hadn’t wanted to bring either of them, but had completely failed to notice that Ottoline might be in more danger as a woman than him or William. He didn’t know enough about these werewolves.

“Alright,” he said. “Has Jack introduced me, or am I going to have to do it myself? I’m Claw. I run this show, round here, and Jack says you want to stay, so you’d best get used to listening to me. I’m good with you all staying, long as you can do that. Got it?”

“Yes,” said Remus.

“You speak for both kids?” Claw asked. “Who’s the boy?” 

“A friend,” replied Remus. “Liam. I’m John, and this is my daughter Tilly.”

“All wolves?”

“Yes.”

“How long?”

“Over thirty-five years for me.”

“Lived in a pack before?”

“Yes.”

“You’ll know how it is then. Why’d you leave?” 

“Wanted a change. Had some trouble with a wizard.”

“Yeah, bet you did that and all. We don’t have any of that round here. Wizards are scum. Werewolves are for werewolves, and that’s that.” After a few moments of silence, Claw continued. “You ain’t gonna agree?”

“Didn’t think I needed to,” said Remus, mildly. “What you said speaks for itself.”

“That it does,” said Claw. “Right, Jack. Find ‘em a cottage. Girl can stay in with them if she wants, or go stay with the other women. You’ll keep the kids safe, John was it? Don’t let them get in any shit.”

This was clearly them being dismissed. They trailed back out of the cottage after Jack, with Kai and Turner bringing up the rear of the small group, and went off on a winding route across the site. There was more housing at the back, where they were headed, and Remus could see groups of werewolves scattered about. A group of women seemed to be tending some kind of food garden, and a gang of kids of various ages were running around them. Men were standing around a concreted square, drinking and smoking. The kids looked happy enough, but none of the adults broke a smile.

“Alright, you can have this one,” said Jack, stopping in front of the middle cottage of a row of five. It thankfully had it’s front door still attached, although the wood had seen much better days. “There’s two bedrooms, sort it out however you like. Got no bedding, you’ll have to borrow some or go up town and nick it. Unless you’ve brought stuff. Cook your own tea, or Denise down at number 4 does a communal meal thing around seven. Might like to come tonight, meet some people. Other than that, don’t start fights unless you’re prepared to lose, you lot look weedy. No drugs, just booze and ciggies allowed. Go off the site if you want to do that shit.”

He bade them goodbye, and all three of the men slunk off back towards Claw’s house.

“What now?” asked Ottoline when she was sure they were alone.

“We gather information,” said Remus. “Let’s go to that meal tonight, and try and talk to as many people as we can. We know Claw is in charge, which is a start, and Jack and the other two seem to act as enforcers for him. We need to work out who else holds power, what the groupings are within the pack, and if there’s anyone who’s a bit disgruntled with how stuff is going here.”

“How on earth do we do that?” asked William. He sunk down onto the one bed in the house, a rickety metal frame and slightly saggy mattress in the back bedroom. 

“Alright, let’s break it down a bit,” said Remus. “It’ll be less overwhelming then. Ottoline, you start with the women. Werewolf packs aren’t the most progressive, and so women are often segregated a bit from the main pack. Physical strength doesn’t count for much in the wizarding world at large, as magic does so much, but here it’ll be a big deal. See what you can find out from them about who’s grouped with who.”

“Alright,” said Ottoline.

“William, you see if there’s any young men your age. They’re likely to be quite rough, most here won’t have been to school. They’ve probably been bitten young, and raised as wolves to hate normal wizards. So keep to your story. Don’t fight them. Try and find out what you can, but focus on getting connections.”

“Got it,” said William.

“And I’ll talk to the older men. Best not to go over there too early, let’s sort this place out before we go.”

They managed to make the house slightly more habitable. William was keen to use charms, if nobody was looking, but the other two argued that they had to get practice at doing it the Muggle way. Ottoline took charge of the bedrooms. Anna had packed them some bedding, and she made two rough floor beds in the front bedroom for William and Remus after they’d successfully argued that she should take the one bed. William tackled the bathroom, squirting liberal amounts of a can of bleach he’d blagged from the people in the house next door. Remus scrubbed the kitchen, until he thought it wouldn’t give them food poisoning any longer. 

Before long, it was time to go and meet the other werewolves. Remus looked at his two friends. 

“You think you can do this?” he asked.

“We can if you can,” said Ottoline. She was grinning, but there was a definite shake of nerves in her voice.

“I reckon so,” said William. “What choice do we have to help you defeat You-Know-Who?”

“You don’t have to help,” said Remus, with a crease in his brow. 

“Ah, but we do,” said William. “He’s what got me like this, ultimately. That’s what you said, back when I met you. And I reckon you’re absolutely right. So I want to help. I can’t do normal stuff, but I can do this.”

“Yeah,” said Ottoline. “I want to too.”

“Come on, then,” said Remus. “We’ll go be spies.” He was starting to feel better about bringing them. Besides, they were older than Harry, and he was sucked into all of this. They all had to do their bit. That’s all he was doing, after all.


	16. Pack Life

Pack life before this had been almost enjoyable, back at the house. Everyone had always eaten dinner together, without too much arguing and definitely no physical fighting. There had been a decent amount of socialising other times, and plenty of time to be alone. Meals had been reasonably nutritious and balanced, and there had been useful things to do. He’d organised things for the pack, and felt like he was achieving something however small.

This place was like none of that.

Everyone ate together, admittedly, apart from a few who were either too important or too antisocial to join in. Most of these meals ended in a fight of some kind. Remus was getting quite good at pinpointing who was going to start it, and also who was going to win it. He’d won five galleons and eighteen Muggle pounds betting on the outcomes of fights. He wasn’t necessarily proud of this; he felt betting on fights was in the main unethical. The only way he could justify it was that he needed to fit in to get the information for the Order.

He’d picked up bits and pieces so far, but nothing of interest. Many of the werewolves in this pack distrusted him. His old pack, back at the big house, had been made up of werewolves who’d been in the wizarding world before they’d been bitten or had close ties with it still through family they were in touch with. Again, the ones here could not be more different. Many of them had been bitten young, left their families, and joined the pack. There were kids, bitten recently and adopted by werewolves to be brought up in their ways. The youngest was a boy of only four, who reminded Remus much of himself. That could have been his life, had his parents not decided to keep him.

Remus had lied about his background, but still had enough of the traits of someone who had lived even on the margins of the normal wizarding world to stand out. Most of the adult males shunned him completely, unless they wanted him to do something for them. There was a very definite hierarchy where the lower down werewolves, like Remus, would do all the pointless, time consuming and difficult tasks while those higher up did little.

Some were willing to talk to him, but they did so in fits and starts, quietly, and generally didn’t want to say much even if they were willing to listen.

“But what would I be doing next if I was caught asking questions of them?” one of them had said to Remus. “I can’t go getting chucked out of here, that’s if they didn’t rough me up so bad I’d not be able to leave. I got nowhere else to go. This is what I know. Seems you ask too many questions.”

Here, it was not a good thing to be asking questions.

Most of the useful stuff had come from Ottoline and William. The women gossiped more freely than the men. Remus had at first assumed the women would know little, given how most of them were kept away from meetings held by the men and, aside from the few that attended, they appeared to have little influence. He quickly realised how wrong he was. The female werewolves were a mine of information about everything from which of the men were influential this week, which had become less so, who was sleeping with who, and all manner of other facts. 

Ottoline for her part was an expert at knowing which of the women to talk to. Jack had a couple of steady girlfriends, and Ottoline had befriended them. They were now feeding her information about discussions that were had in his house. She’d discovered plans to threaten various other packs or solo werewolves with information they could dig out about individuals, to make them join the cause. Greyback came most weeks, generally only visiting the leaders of the pack. 

She was gathering information almost faster than Remus could relay it back to the Order. 

It would be highly suspicious for him to be seen sending owls, so he had resorted to the Muggle post. When sent on a mission, or sometimes if William was sent out, they would drop by a Muggle postbox and send on the latest report. Fred and George were receiving it at the Muggle Post Office in Ottery St Catchpole, and passing it on to the rest of the Order. They’d post stuff back, from time to time, and Remus was occasionally able to get to the main Post Office in Great Yarmouth to receive more orders and the odd product from Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes that the twins thought he may find useful.

William too was doing well. The young men and teenage boys were more guarded initially than the women, but proved to know almost as much when William got to know them better and they began to trust him more.

So, it was just Remus that was failing badly.

His sprits were lifted nearly four weeks into their stay at the pack’s site when another new werewolf arrived. They were arriving at the rate of two or three a week, although Ottoline reckoned as many were leaving. Whether the leavers disagreed with the pack’s views, or were going on missions for them, it wasn’t clear. William was working on finding out.

This new member, though, was Mike. Remus had watched him closely for the first day of his stay, until he was able to get to the older wolf for a talk. Everyone knew everyone else’s business, and your actions may well be reported to someone higher up, so it was best to be subtle. Remus was not planning to make it clear that he knew Mike.

“Alright?” said Mike when Remus approached him that evening. He was leaning up in the corner of Denise the cook’s living room, a can of beer open in his hand. “Do I recognise you?”

“Been around for years,” said Remus. “Name’s John.” 

“Mike,” said Mike, winking at him. “Hey, been wanting to see where we can get ciggies from. Do you know?”

“Muggle newsie’s up the way,” said Remus. “Want me to take you?” He was struggling to get the hang of the way the werewolves here spoke, and everything he said came out a mangled mess of his normal way of speaking and some bastardised form of theirs. It never sounded convincing.

Mike nodded. Remus led the way out of the house and down a tunnel towards the newsagent’s, in case they were being watched. He led them into the Muggle streets, keeping an eye out for tailers. New recruits to the pack were watched far closer than more established members, and he was certain Jack had asked some of the others to keep a close eye on him in particular. Newbies asking questions did not go down well.

When he was certain they were alone, he stopped in a bus shelter. Mike sat on the bench, taking a swig from his can.

“What brought you here?” Remus asked. “It’s good to see you.”

“And you,” said Mike. “Anna, actually. Wrote me around when you left her, to say that you were coming here and maybe I could help you out. Nearly didn’t. You know I don’t much like this sort of life. But then I’ve been hearing rumours, and I don’t like those rumours one bit. So I thought, quicker I come and help quicker all this shit can go away, and I can be back on my mountain by myself just the way I like it. Plus, Hunter, well you know Hunter too right?” 

Remus nodded. He’d written to his old acquaintance three times. The first time he’d received a mildly positive answer, and the second two nothing back at all.

“Well, I know him too. We go way back. He’s dead.”

“How?” asked Remus.

“Killed,” said Mike. “Story goes he refused to join this lot, and they did him over. And then they showed up at my door, and asked me to join. Thought it was better I said to the wee man I’d come down in a few days, this was after Anna’s note when I was thinking it anyway. They reckon I’m here to join them, I reckon I’m here to join you.”

“Shit,” said Remus. 

“Aye,” said Mike. “Shit’s about what I’d say too. Pile a’ muck, the whole sorry spectacle, right?”

Mike had summed it up about adequately. They went to the newsagents to buy the cigarettes, to avoid looking suspicious if they’d come back without any, and drank the remains of Mike’s beer on the way home. They passed it between them, sip each, like school kids passing illicit booze.

Remus hated beer. He hated the taste, and the aftertaste was even worse. It was the only alcohol available here, though.

The more time he spent in this shithole, the more he hated the whole thing. Everyone was watching everyone else, trying to come up with a reason to make them lose status. Half the people here absolutely believed every word Greyback had ever spouted about werewolf supremacy, and most the other half believed some of it. Anger crackled in the air even in the early morning when most of the werewolves were asleep. It was something about the place. They all lived in such horrible conditions, and Claw was preaching constantly that they were kept this way by wizards, but from what Ottoline had discovered the pack had money. They just were spending it on something else.

The two men arrived back at the cottages in silence. Mike grabbed them two more beers from a counter, and they found themselves seats in the courtyard. After dinner, most of the pack congregated out here. The men drank, shouted and fought, or bragged about the people they’d bitten, the women hung around the edges and chatted. It was all the worst stereotypes of werewolves, the ones Remus had spent years trying to convince people weren’t true.

And they still weren’t, for the majority of werewolves. Remus knew this was a tiny minority, and that most here were being manipulated by those in power. But fucking hell it was bad, and it made him want to gather up William, Ottoline and even Mike and leave.

But then he was here for the Order, he was being useful, and here he must stay.

William came over to where they were sat.

“Hey, John,” he said, popping the top of a can of beer of his own. “I’ve got something.”

“Yeah?” asked Remus, casting his eyes around carefully. Turner, one of Claw’s underlings, was nearby. “Quietly.” It was difficult to find time for discussion without being overheard, and they’d discovered early on that large gatherings made it easier to be undetected.

William gestured to Mike, as if he was talking about the older man, giving him a nod of recognition as he did so. 

“You know how we thought they were planning an attack around the full moon? They are. Tonight they’re planning on picking out people to join it. They want to bite some Muggles.”

Remus’ heart sank. Muggles bitten by werewolves tended not to survive.

“You-Know-Who’s orders, apparently. I heard it off one of the boys that Greyback has been in with Claw all week, planning it, and Ottoline’s sources backed it up. Greyback’s supposed to be showing his loyalty to You-Know-Who, and Claw’s got to show his to Greyback.”

“Lot of them are morons,” said Mike.

“We need to stop this,” said Remus, though even as he said it he had no idea how to do that. He could try to get a message to the Order to ask them, but the Order’s expert on werewolf pack dynamics was him. So that would be no use. 

“I reckon if we…” said William, but he was interrupted by the arrival of a menacing figure above him. 

Staring down at them with unyielding grey eyes was Claw.

“John,” he said. “A word.”

It was not a question. Remus stood up, downing the last of his beer. He regretted the beer almost as soon as he lowered the can. As the others mainly did here, he threw the can to the floor. His rule-abiding, Prefect side made him promise to go outside and pick it up later.

“Yes,” he said.

“Got a job for you. Going to go show some Muggle’s who’s boss tomorrow night, at the moon. You’re coming.”

“No,” said Remus.

“What now?”

“You heard me. No. I won’t attack Muggles.”

The whole courtyard had fallen silent now. Nobody said no to the pack leader. A few people had gasped. Mike had crunched his can of beer up in his fist. William was hanging onto his as if his life depended on it. Over the other side of the courtyard, Remus could see Ottoline in a group of women. He prayed none of them would do anything. 

“Say that again,” said Claw. “Say that again, loud and clear, so the whole fucking pack can hear what a Muggle-loving coward you are.”

“I won’t attack Muggles,” said Remus, straightening himself up and looking the larger werewolf direct in the eye. He really was so much larger. So much stronger. 

“And now, let’s let everyone see exactly what happens to members of the pack who do not do exactly what I say. Watch everyone, as I teach this piece of scum to mind his mouth.”

Remus thought fast, as Claw’s hand extended out towards him. The man was much bigger than him, but Remus thought he might just be faster. Ducking and running was his main move in physical fights and had been since he was small. He leaned down as Claw’s fist was about to collide with his face and made a dash for it.

What Remus hadn’t banked on was the hanger-ons. Turner, known for his love of punching, and three others Remus half recognised. Not that now was the time for trying to put faces to names. The blond one grabbed him by the sleeve of his sweater and half-pushed, half-threw Remus back towards Claw. Remus felt the jerk as his arm was caught again this time by the big werewolf and had seconds to try and manoeuvre himself out of punching range. He managed it, narrowly avoiding another swing of Claw’s fist but ending up on the floor.

He scrabbled up, but Claw was faster and, with a hand on his sweater neck hauled Remus up against the wall of one of the cottages. His hanger-ons were following him to avoid another escape attempt. Remus felt his head hit the cottage wall with a thud, and felt a trickle of blood in his hair. Claw kept one hand pinned on his neck, and used the other to punch Remus in the stomach several times, then once to the head. More blood, this time from Remus’ nose.

“Now,” said Claw, his first raised again. “Tell me that you’re sorry, and you’re going to come with us.”

“No,” said Remus, with a strangled voice from the pressure on his neck. “I won’t.”

This whole thing was a terrible idea, thought Remus as he felt fists on his head and body again. He should have come up with a way to sabotage the mission later, and said yes at this point. It would have been a whole lot less painful, and possibly more effective. Now he couldn’t back down or they’d all think he was weak. He had friends to protect, as well as his mission.

Claw eventually let go, and Remus fell to the ground in a heap of bruised and battered werewolf.

“And that,” said Claw, “is what happens when you don’t obey your leader. This whole thing is not a fucking joke. It’s not some kind of game of being big, bad werewolves but doing nothing. Greyback says we’ve got to start acting, and he’s right. I expect all of you I’ve told to come along to be there tomorrow, including you down there. Next time you don’t do what I say, you’re out the pack. Or worse.” 

He aimed a kick at Remus, and marched off. Three of the hanger ons followed, with Turner staying back. 

“You’d better fucking do as he says, or I’ll make sure the worse happens to you myself,” said Turner, kicking him one more time.

Remus heard the silence echoing around him after the five men had departed before he passed out.


	17. Consequences

Remus came to in Ottoline’s bed. It was still the only bed his cottage owned. Sat in the chair by the door was William, and Mike was at the window smoking a cigarette carefully out of it. 

“He’s awake!” said William.

“Hello there, Mr Revolutionary,” said Mike.

“Didn’t know you actually smoked,” said Remus.

“Don’t,” said Mike. “Bored waiting for you to get round to waking up.”

“What happened?” asked Remus. “After I…”

“After you made a noble stand and then got beaten to a pulp, you mean?” grinned William. “You missed the planned Muggle murdering spree. Ottoline dealt with that in the end, by the way, and nobody knows it was her and she didn’t pass out for two days. No Muggles died. Claw stormed in here and shook you a bit to make sure you were genuinely passed out and not faking it. Turner kicked you in the balls at that point, so that’s why they hurt if you were wondering. Plus the whole transforming into a werewolf thing. You woke up, ran around for a bit, then passed back out and we had to find you and get you back into bed.”

Remus hadn’t been thinking about his balls specifically, more the general pain in his whole body.

“Ottoline swore a lot, used some of her best rude words, y’know, the ones she makes up by sticking two words together? Her and Mike made up a few new ones. Arsebadger was my favourite. She’s kinda cross at you. I thought you were amazing.”

“If you like stupid fucking pointless bravery over things that could have been solved if you’d just been a bit clever!” said Ottoline, from the doorway. She came in the room. “You were a very brave idiot, but an idiot nonetheless.”

“See,” said William. “Here’s the essential difference between someone from Gryffindor and a good type of Slytherin. Gryffindor stands up for whats right, and sometimes succeeds but also often gets his arse kicked. Slytherin goes all plotting, and gets what they want.”

“And what did Hufflepuff house contribute to this whole sorry mess?” asked Ottoline.

“I carried him up the stairs, twice,” said William. “Not that it was that hard. Professor, I reckon you need to eat more.”

“I’m staying out of this,” said Mike.

“Something good did come out of this, though,” said Ottoline, looking almost pained to admit it. “A few of the pack who aren’t that happy with what’s going on want to talk to you when you’re well enough.”

“That’s progress,” said Remus.

He insisted on speaking to the werewolves who’d requested a meeting perhaps sooner than he was physically ready for it, but he didn’t want any of them to get cold feet and back out.

Two of them were very positive, wanting him to confirm that he didn’t believe in Greyback’s messages and then offering him their help. Remus accepted it, as it felt the right thing to do, but he wasn’t at all sure about the idea of becoming the master of a network of spies. He asked the pair of them to try and estimate how many werewolves were in the pack, and how many of those were on site or off at other things. As newer members, none of his current little team had been able to ascertain that.

The other three were less immediately positive. Remus was almost certain one of them had been sent by Claw. He said little, except to try and trip Remus up into saying things that could later incriminate him. Mike sat in the back of that discussion, and eventually threw the other werewolf out.

The last two were just nervous wrecks. A man and a woman, who Ottoline informed him had been seeing each other for a few months. Remus felt sure they genuinely wanted to hear what he had to say, and probably agreed with the vast majority of it, but that they were too used to agreeing with the leader of the pack to be able to properly say that. He promised to meet with them again.

After that, he argued with Ottoline for fifteen minutes about whether he should be allowed to leave the cottage for dinner, won, and attempted to lever himself into a bath. 

When he was done, he dressed carefully. The bruises dotting his body hadn’t hurt so much in the bath, but they certainly did now. It took him twenty minutes, eight of them with William standing on the other side of the bathroom door offering help, for him to get his clothes back on. He was not going to let any of them see this. 

The four of them, Remus, Ottoline, William and Mike, all walked over to number four together to collect their dinner. Initially Remus had insisted on walking under his own steam. That had got him about halfway down the front path of his own cottage without too much hassle, and then he’d stumbled on a rock and fallen the rest of the way down the path and into the gate with a resounding crash. To add insult to the multiple injuries, the gate had only ever been held on by one rusting hinge and immediately fell down onto him. 

After that he was forced to accept the help of William and Mike, who grabbed him one under each arm and half helped, half carried him over to a chair. There, they dumped him not-too-gently into one, and William stayed to enforce him sitting still while the other two went to fetch plates of dinner.

Remus felt a bit useless, needing this level of looking after. This was twice in a year now that he’d made a mistake and ended up badly injured. He hadn’t done that at all in the first war. In fact, he’d generally been the one looking after others then. 

“Sucks, don’t it?” said William. “You don’t always have to be so brave, you know. It’s alright to get help sometimes. Not all the time though, reckon even we’d get bored of helping you if it was constant.”

“You’re already helping me just by being here.”

“Yeah, but we want to help you too, not just the anti-You-Know-Who cause. We like you. You’re a good man, you deserve some help from time to time. Oh, look, dinner. Ah shit. Looks like it’s stew. I hate stew.”

Remus was glad of the food arriving; he didn’t entirely know what to say to William. ‘Thank you’ seemed too little for what they were doing for him. If it hadn’t been for him, they could have been back with the other pack in safety.

“I’ve been thinking,” said Ottoline, pausing halfway through her stew. “I don’t think you should be afraid to show that you were hurt, Remus. Sorry, John. If you try to be all tough, it’s going to make you more of a target. Whereas if they think they’ve got to you, and you keep your head down for a few weeks, then you’ll be able to talk to more werewolves and try and convince them we’re right.”

“She’s a clever one, that girl,” said Mike.

“That’s basically what I said!” said William.

“Surely it’s better to show that I’m not worried by them though, or the other werewolves are going to assume I’m scared and that they should all be scared of Claw too.”

“See, I reckon that kind of bravado works in the short term,” said William, “but if we’re talking longer term then we’re better off going with Tilly’s plan.”

“And anyway, it’s not like you’re challenging for the leader of the pack,” Ottoline added. “And those that are going to be mega impressed by toughness aren’t going to come to our side anyway. We’ve got to be realistic. Maybe half the people here aren’t going to be convinced over at all. We’ve got to be smart and not try for that half, and focus on the ones we’ve got a hope with.”

Remus was not convinced. But he was also prepared to admit that his current technique had not worked. And Ottoline’s plan was closer to what he’d done with the other werewolves he’d recruited to the other pack. Quiet, convincing, slipping under the radar and making personal connections. It was closer to what he was good at than starting physical fights, anyway.

“Alright,” said Remus. “I’ll try your idea.”

“Excellent,” said William. “Now I’m going to go and see if I can find anything that tastes of food.”

“Bring me back some if you can find it,” said Remus. “I don’t usually hate stew, but this isn’t edible.”

“Tastes like cow shit,” said Mike.

The next few days they worked on their plan in earnest. Remus made sure he was seen looking weaker and injured by Turner, who was lurking around as if waiting to find him. Ottoline and William continued their spying, and William made another trek to the postbox with information. Against Remus’ better judgement, he’d added details of his fight to the letter. He didn’t want to appear weak to the rest of the Order, but it was important they knew what they were up against he supposed. 

Mike was proving to be an asset. The older, hardened werewolves that Remus was never able to work well with warmed to the Scot instantly. He was soon drinking and smoking with a gang of them most evenings, and surpassing even Ottoline in information gathered.

Remus was getting closer to physically recovered by the evening William came skidding into their cottage with news of a visit to the pack from Fenrir Greyback himself. He hoisted himself up, determined to make it down to the warehouse where he was going to be speaking to the pack. He declined an offer of help from William. Whatever their plan, this was not a werewolf he was willing to ever appear weakened to. 

The two of them entered. Mike was already there, near the front with some of the group he’d befriended. All of them were holding cans of beer. Shortly after their arrival, Ottoline slipped in, with a small clutch of the women. She waved to Remus and William, but stayed with them. 

There was a strange energy in the room. There was always an odd atmosphere when all the werewolves of the pack gathered together to listen to Claw, and when Greyback had visited before, but there was something else this time. It felt aggressive. Remus could almost smell it. Most of the people in here were spoiling for a fight.

“There’s going to be some kind of announcement,” William muttered. “Want a beer?”

Remus hadn’t drunk beer since the night he’d got into the fight, but he nodded. He was going to need one for this.

William returned with the cans seconds before Greyback entered the room. He looked harder and meaner than ever, with muscles clearly visible under what were unmistakably Death Eater robes. Some of the others in the room would miss that detail, but Remus had seen those robes so many times. Never had he seen them when something good was about to happen.

Greyback was accompanied by no less than eight werewolves, almost as an honour guard. They had been picked carefully, Remus thought. Each of them looked strong, but not as strong as Greyback himself. They wore robes of black, but not as fancy as his. All of them walked behind Greyback, followed him onto the makeshift podium, and then stood behind him like a line of bodyguards. It took Remus a few seconds to realise that Claw, the pack leader, was in amongst them.

“Thank you everyone for being here today,” began Greyback. “I won’t keep you long, my werewolf friends.”

“Not my fucking friend,” said William, but so only Remus could hear.

“I’ve been thinking for a while now how valuable you all are to me. I’ve had such loyalty from this pack. Those of you who stand here today can be assured that I know you’re in this for the good of all werewolves, not for wizards and Muggles. You all know that we don’t need their sorts to do well!”

There was a cheer at that from near the front of the room. 

“Now, I’ve never said that we shouldn’t work with some wizards, though, if it’s to our benefit. I’ve been working with one myself and it’s only made me stronger. The Dark Lord can only be of benefit to werewolves. He’s offering us freedoms wizards have denied us for centuries if we join him, and I for one intend to do just that.

“I’m no brute, I’m going to give you all the choice whether to join us. It’s nearly Christmastime, so I’m even going to give you the time to make a choice. Join us, and you’ll get freedom, as much prey as you want, and, once we’ve won, to be able to live out in the open! If you choose not to, then you are free to walk away. We will not bother you, or protect you.

“Choose to stand against us, and we will kill you.”

The room was silent for a moment, as Greyback let his words hang in the air for a moment. Remus had already known that Greyback was in league with Voldemort, but this confirmed it. It would be easier to act, when all Greyback’s cards were on the table. But he was still so incredibly uneasy. So many of the werewolves here would fall over themselves to join them, and it meant his time in the pack was limited as he would have to leave when it came to swearing oaths.

If only he could find a way to stop this.

“I’m going to give you until the full moon in February to make you decisions,” Greyback continued. His voice was low and dangerous, and he surveyed the room closely as he spoke. It felt like he was speaking to Remus directly. “Any who wish to see what their life could be like with complete freedom are welcome to come with me to try it out, just ask Claw to get you in contact with me. Choose wisely, my friends.”

He swept off the podium, accompanied by his guard, and disappeared out through the door. According to William, he usually stayed to drink in the pack leaders’ area for a while. Remus was incredibly tempted to follow him, and use the wand tucked up his sleeve that he hadn’t used for over a month now. He knew enough spells that could damage Greyback without it ever being traced to him. 

However, the priority here was to find out what the werewolves in the room felt about what had happened. There was no time for attacking Greyback. Remus took his hand off the wand. Maybe he’d get chance to jinx him later.

Sirius would be highly disappointed in him for missing the chance to hex a Death Eater, thought Remus. Tonks would be proud of him for staying safe. This thought did not make him happy. She had chosen never to contact him again, and so why did he need to make her happy? Why did a large part of him desperately want to?

“Shit speech,” said William. “Shall we hit the crowds?”

They wove through the crowd until they found other werewolves each of them were friendly with, catching snippets of conversation as they went. 

“I’m going to join him,” said one burly, grey-haired man. “What he’s offering can’t be worse than this.”

“It all sounds a bit too good to be true,” said another. “Do you really think You-Know-Who would give us all that?”

“He didn’t show us any interest last time,” said a werewolf Remus had chatted with many times before, Demetrius. “I don’t think he will this time, not in the end.”

“Well, I ain’t sittin’ around to be shat on from a great height by the Ministry,” said a fourth werewolf, with so much red hair he could have been a Weasley. “I’m joinin’.”

“And me,” said another, Clive if Remus remembered correctly. “I don’t want to kill, but I’ll take anythin’ over this shithole.”

“He’ll expect you to kill,” said Remus, quietly.

“What do you know?” asked Clive.

“Enough,” said Remus. “You-Know-Who killed some of my friends.”

“Wizards or werewolves?”

“Wizards.”

“Prob’ly deserved it,” said the red-haired wolf. “If he kills wizards I’m not finding myself much fussed. I want stuff for werewolves, not fucking wand-carriers. They can go to hell, far as I care.”

“Harsh,” said Demetrius. “But it would be nice to get a few more rights.”

“I don’t think Lord Voldemort is the one that’ll give us those,” said Remus.

“Don’t say ‘is name!” shouted Clive.

“He’s going to use us for his own gain,” Remus continued. “He’ll make us kill for him, and then somehow mysteriously he won’t find a place for us in his new society and we’ll be left in much the same place as before with blood on our hands and nothing to show for it.”

“What else do you think we can do?” said Demetrius. “I’m running out of options. I don’t want to live out the rest of my life being hated by every fucking wizard I meet.”

“Lots of them don’t hate us,” said Remus. “If we join the fight against Voldemort, show that we are as normal as anyone else, then…”

“Then there’s only fuckin’ promises there either!” said Clive. “No, I’ve decided. I’m going with him.”

Most of the rest of Remus’ conversations went the same way, and when he met up with the others at the end there was no more joy there. The four friends trekked back to their cottage, Mike having moved in with them onto the sofa, in despair. It didn’t seem like their work was achieving much. William was attempting to keep spirits up, with a long stream of consciousness about how it wasn’t all lost, and some of them might yet come over to their point of view, but nobody was in much of a mood to be positive. Eventually, he tailed off on reaching their cottage, and they all went to their beds almost straight away.

Remus lay awake far into the night. By the absence of his usual sleeping noises, William was also lying awake.

At least he had Christmas at the Burrow with Harry and the Weasleys to look forward to in a couple of days. Remus was determined to enjoy the small bits of normality he got, now. He could deal with all this werewolf business on his return.


	18. Boxing Day

Boxing Day dawned bright and frosty. Remus woke at the Burrow with his head throbbing and a strange feeling on his foot. Experimentally, he moved the foot. There was something large and feathery on it, but it didn’t seem to be dangerous. 

At least that ruled out Fred and George’s ‘under development’ wares, which were almost all highly dangerous.

The Weasley’s post owl, Errol, appeared to have collapsed on his bed. Luckily, it was still breathing. Molly Weasley was still not all that impressed with Remus’ recent behaviour, and the death of an owl in his bedroom would not have helped her opinions of him. He prodded Errol gently. The owl looked how Remus felt, and had no inclination to move. With a bit of gentle coaxing and some water from the goblet on the nightstand, Errol was persuaded upright and eventually to flap halfheartedly out of the window.

That just left the headache to deal with. Remus knew full well the cause of that; the eggnog and Firewhisky he’d drank with Arthur, Bill, and the twins last night. The Christmas at the Weasley house was a full-on affair, and it seemed you either joined in with it whole-heartedly or were forced to anyway. It had been easier to join in under his own steam.

Still, he regretted it slightly now. There were already three people waiting for the bathroom.

“Hey there, Remus, mate,” said Fred, looking a long way chirpier than Remus felt. “You look like death, old man. I’m giving up on the bathroom, personally. George’s in there, he takes an age. Going to go piss up a tree. Coming?”

How could you refuse an offer like that, Remus thought, as he followed Fred down the stairs. He wouldn’t normally, but he really did need to go.

“The old hangover?” Fred asked. Remus had never liked talking while peeing. “Felt rough this morning myself. Quick puke, quick Vanishing spell, sorted. On George’s bed, naturally.”

“It’s your age,” Remus said. “I could drink what I wanted when I was your age. I got to thirty-five, and started getting a hangover every time.”

“Reckon I’ll just not bother turning thirty-five then,” said Fred.

“Fred! Mum wants to know if you’re having breakfast?” Ginny Weasley appeared around the corner of the house, coat and boots thrown on over her pyjamas. “Oh, hello Professor Lupin. Do you want breakfast too? What have you two been doing out here anyway? Oh, you haven’t been peeing up against trees again have you Fred? Mum told you to stop that! It’s disgusting!”

“Please call me Remus, not Professor Lupin,” said Remus. “But I’d love some breakfast.”

“Can’t call a guy ‘professor’ and then tell him off for pissing up a tree,” said Fred, laughing. “Sends very odd signals.”

“Men are gross,” said Ginny, stepping ahead of them to enter the house.

“Dean Thomas? Michael Corner?” said Fred.

“What about them?” asked Ginny. Their argument continued into the living room. Remus declined to follow them. He knew enough about Weasley arguments to know he didn’t want to hear any more. 

“Molly, do you need any help?” he asked, entering the kitchen.

“Oh yes, that would be lovely dear. Could you get those knives working on some mushrooms, please, and then fry the eggs? I thought I’d do a full English. Everyone drank far too much last night, well all those of age, anyway, and I feel they’ll be needing the grease. Boys seem to, Remus, I’m sure you know that.” 

Remus’ head was still throbbing far too much to deal with a reply to Molly. Luckily, she didn’t seem to need one. He worked on his mushrooms and eggs, setting the knives to chop the mushrooms and frying the eggs by hand. He’d never been much use at cooking, but was slightly better by hand than by magic. With a Muggle mother, and a father without any cooking skills, it was how he’d been taught.

Molly was still talking next to him, as she worked on the bacon and sausages. Remus was marvelling at the quantities Molly cooked in when he realised she was talking directly about him.

“But don’t you think, Remus dear, that Tonks deserves some happiness?“ That was a trick question. Everyone deserved happiness. What Molly meant was that he should be the one to make her happy.

“I do,” he said, “but perhaps sometimes what you think will make you happy, will not.”

“Women know our own minds,” said Molly, flipping the bacon onto a plate. It was practically an entire pig’s worth, along with the sausages.

“Of course,” said Remus. “I’d never said you didn’t.” 

He was saved by Ginny wandering into the kitchen, asking for pumpkin juice and if anyone had seen Arnold. After that, Molly didn’t have a chance to get near him again until he was preparing to leave. Despite around half the group looking much worse for wear, it had been a typically Weasley breakfast. Remus did enjoy these times with the Weasley’s. It reminded him of happier times. However, it was tiring. 

He’d enjoyed another conversation with Harry that morning, who had thankfully dropped his thoughts about Tonks from the day before and was instead asking for stories about Sirius, James and Remus’ school years. He’d happily obliged, telling him some of his favourite stories. Harry had told him about his discussion with Scrimgeour the day before, and Remus had assured him that he was doing the right thing refusing to work with the Ministry. Perhaps it was selfish, given how much Remus hated the Ministry and especially its recent policies on werewolves, but they were victimising Harry too and that was even less fair. The boy had done nothing wrong.

So it was after Remus had said his farewells, and was walking out the door, that Molly had cornered him. 

“Oh, Remus, just before you go,” she said, “I’ve promised Tonks some of my Christmas cake. I’m ever so busy with all these kids back here again, so you couldn’t be a dear and drop it round to her could you? I’ve put her address on a slip of parchment on the top, if you didn’t already know it. Thank you so much, ever a help you are!” She’d rushed back inside before he’d been able to do anything at all, leaving Remus standing in the Weasley’s front garden holding a parcel of cake.

Reluctantly, he went to the address Molly had given him and knocked the door. 

“Just a minute!” came Tonks’ voice from inside the flat. Remus seriously considered dropping the cake on the doormat and running. Molly had said to take the cake. She hadn’t said anything about speaking to Tonks.

Before he could, however, the door opened. A messy-haired, dressing gown clad Tonks was standing in the doorway. Her face, unreadable when she’d opened the door, quickly transformed into a face of intense dislike. Remus wished he’d made the decision to leave the cake and run.

“Oh, it’s you,” she said.

“Molly asked me to bring this?” he said, not intending it to come out as if it was a question. “Here.” He handed over the parcel, and turned to leave. Remus Lupin was a man who knew when he was not wanted.

“Do you want to come in?” she asked. “I was just about to make a brew.”

Once again Remus considered leaving. He could give some excuse and go, but it felt rude. He followed her into the flat.

Her flat was a riot of colour and items, everything clashing and competing for his attention. Posters of Quidditch teams and wizarding rock bands were plastered on the walls, next to wizarding photographs and a huge Hufflepuff banner which took up the best part of the wall above the sofa. The sofa itself was lime green. It all hurt Remus’ eyes.

“Here you go,” she said, handing him a mug of tea. 

They sat in silence drinking. Remus felt so incredibly awkward. He hadn’t seen Tonks since the day they’d gone to fetch Harry from the train station at the end of the school term, five months ago now. She’d ignored him then, and despite having invited him into her flat seemed just as intent on ignoring him now. He had no idea what to say. Perhaps she didn’t either.

It didn’t help that he’d never had a situation with Tonks where she hadn’t had an awful lot to say before. Awkward silences were something Tonks filled, not caused. 

“What have you been up to?” he asked her.

“Work, mostly,” she replied. She kept her eyes firmly on her mug, rather than looking at him. “Been stationed up at Hogmeade to help protect the school, don’t know if you heard? Not done much for the Order aside from that, as I’ve been busy. Few missions when someone else from the Auror Office has taken my place to give me a couple of days rest. Yeah. Been hanging out at the Hog’s Head some, Aberforth Dumbledore wanted a hand keeping an eye on a few of his regulars. Can’t work out if they’re Death Eaters or just a bit dodgy like Mundungus.”

“Did you work it out?”

“Not yet. Loads of illegal substances being traded. Everyone wears hoods or disguises in there. Dunno why Aberforth runs such a dive, he’s a decent man.”

“There’s a lot money to be made in facilitating crime,” said Remus, thinking of Claw and the other werewolves he was living around.

“What about you? I’m hearing stuff from your reports, obviously, but is it alright out there? You know, with the werewolves?”

“It’s fine,” he said. “First pack was lovely. This one, less so. They’re probably mostly inclined to go with Greyback, and I don’t think I can convince any of them really to join our side, but we can hopefully stop at least a few of them from joining Voldemort.”

“Fred Weasley reckoned you got into a fight. George says you lost it.”

“I did. I’m not very good at fighting the Muggle way.” He waved his arm in the air, attempting to indicate that he had a lack of muscles but, judging by the confused look on Tonks’ face, probably failing.

“What the fuck did you do that for?” she asked. Her tone was angry, but her face closer to resigned to his stupidity. Remus could sympathise with that. He was mostly resigned to his own stupidity now too.

“They wanted me to join them on an attempt to kill some Muggles. I refused. They beat me up.”

“Bloody hell, Remus! Couldn’t you have stopped with the pointless bravery for one minute? Not got yourself beaten to within an inch of your life? Not endangered your mission?” She was shouting at him now, anger flashing in her eyes.

“The mission is fine, thank you. I have a succession plan if anything happens to me. And anyway, what should I have done? Gone to kill some Muggles? Become a murderer all over again? Is that what you’d like next time? I fucking regret every day that I killed a Death Eater, Tonks, and I’d rather die than kill Muggles!”

She looked deflated. The anger present in her eyes moments before had gone. 

“Of course not, I just… I don’t know what to say to you any more. I don’t understand what you want from me. Do you think you can just keep me here to say nice things when you bother to get in touch and never challenge you on anything ever? What do you want from me? Someone to get kisses off every so often and then to not contact?”

“You kissed me! Twice!”

“And you’re deliberately missing the point!” she shouted. “You don’t get it, at all, do you?”

“Get what? That I’m off trying to do my best? You don’t get it, I’ve told you what I want, and…”

She cut him off. He’d never liked to speak over people. 

“What you want? Exactly. And what about what I want? Have you ever asked that? Stopped to think about that? You haven’t. You think you can decide for me what is best for me, and you can’t. I want to be in a relationship with you and I know full well what that entails, and yet you insist on thinking that you know better than I do what I want.”

“I know what the realities are of being with someone like me!”

“So do I,” said Tonks, choking back tears. “I’ve lost count of the amount of times you’ve told me. And what you’re not listening to is that I still want it. I don’t really care if people don’t want to know me because of it. You’re only dangerous once a month. I know people with bigger age gaps than there is between us. You’re poor, I get it, I have a job. If I lose it, we’ll manage. People do. Happiness is what’s important, not galleons or having the respect of everyone we meet. We’re in the Order, Remus, loads of people hate us already. Some of them want to kill us. How much worse can it honestly get?”

She was crying now, her face going slightly red and blotchy. 

“You don’t understand.”

“So you keep telling me. You don’t understand what I mean, either, and you don’t because you don’t ask and you don’t listen.”

Remus wanted to leave. In fact, he wanted to run. His previous experiences of entanglements with women had been that you liked them, you saw them a few times, maybe slept with them, and then if it started to get complicated you left. Most women didn’t want complicated any more than he did, and didn’t exactly miss him. Remus had made a point of only ever seeing women who wanted nothing serious. 

Tonks seemed to want the complications. Maybe that was the wrong way of looking at it. She wanted him, despite the complicated, perhaps. He still couldn’t shake the feeling that she deserved so much better.

“Okay,” he said. “I’m listening.”

“I want to be with you,” she said. “I want to be with you no matter what. I can handle this. I know what I’m getting myself into, because you never stop telling me. I want you to accept that I’m an adult who can understand the consequences of her actions and can make her own choices. I’m not someone you need to guide or parent or teach like you seem to think I am. You love me. Let me love you.”

“I don’t try to parent you,” he began to protest, as she cut him off. 

“You pretty much do! You may be older, and have more experience of some things, but you need to bloody well accept that I have opinions that matter too.”

“I accept your opinions. I just still can’t be in a relationship with you.”

“You can!”

“I can’t. I’m too old, too poor, and too dangerous. Do you know what I’m mixed up in at the moment? I’m out of my depth, Tonks. You were right. I can’t stop from getting myself into dangerous situations. I will drag you into them with me, because I don’t know how not to. I’ve nearly died twice this past year, and I wouldn’t have done it any differently either of those times. I cannot be safe for you, not in this war. I will throw myself into danger to protect you, or for the Order, but I will not put you in a situation where you get dragged in with me.”

“That’s exactly what I’m trying to say!” she shouted. She looked half-deranged now, with the force of her feeling exploding out of her. “You think you can protect me, I don’t fucking need protecting! You’re the one hurting me!”

“I don’t want to, I…”

“Don’t fucking think things through ever. You’re so determined to throw everything away because you’ve got some complex about how you’re a lesser form of being than everyone else that you’re acting like you want to die, Remus. Is that what you want?”

“No. I just can’t see much for me after this war. Maybe I’ll go live with the pack, if I survive this.”

“See, you’ve got such a self-obsessed, defeatist attitude!”

“I’m a realist, Tonks! I don’t know what you want me to say!”

“And I don’t know what you want me to say. Tell me, Remus, is there any scenario where you could imagine me and you having a relationship?”

“You mean aside from a cure for lycanthropy?” he asked, drily.

“You know what I mean,” she said.

“I don’t know. It’s not something I’ve thought about. In the current situation, it is impossible.”

“Do you love me?”

“Yes. I love you. But I shouldn’t, I can’t. Please, find someone who can give you love without the complications.”

“Everyone has complications, they're not solely the preserve of Remus Lupin. You’ve never stopped to ask if I have any.”

Remus knew she was right. But it wouldn't change anything.

“I think you should go now,” she said. “Write to me, yeah? And if you change your mind, let me know.”


	19. Fenrir

Remus sloped back to Great Yarmouth after his argument with Tonks. Part of him considered running back to her as soon as she’d closed the door on him. He loved her, he had done for years. Other people got together in wartime, and maybe if one of them died he’d regret not having used his time more happily. For a few seconds, he allowed himself to indulge in a lovely daydream of him and Tonks sharing a house, doing Order work, being happy. 

It would not end happily. It would end with him putting her in danger, whether danger from him or from those who associated with him. She was right, she was a grown adult and could make decisions for herself, but she didn’t have the right to make his for him. He’d already endangered Ottoline and William far more than he’d wanted to, and Mike. He wouldn’t throw anyone else under the Hippogriff with him.

Ottoline and William were not at the cottage when he arrived. Ottoline was back at the old pack house, visiting Eugenia, and William had been to see his parents. Mike was there, though. He was cooking sausages on a stick over a fire he had burning in the grate, and had a mound of bread and cheese next to him.

“Hello,” he said, seeing Remus enter. “Sausage? Got veggie ones, case you came back.”

“Thanks,” said Remus. He was in the mood to appreciate Mike’s uncomplicated nature. 

They sat for a while cooking their sausages before one of them spoke.

“Good Christmas?” asked Mike.

“Still hungover,” said Remus. “I can’t drink how I used to be able to any more. Had an argument with Tonks, the girl I was sort-of-not seeing. Yours?”

“Also hungover,” said Mike. “Didn’t argue with no-one, though. Kept in here. Seven fights, I saw. Nasty bunch, some of them. What’s up with your girl?”

“She’s not my girl,” said Remus. ‘It’s complicated. She says I’m not listening to her, but I can tell you almost everything she’s ever said to me. She’s not making any sense, and she definitely isn’t listening to me.”

“Ah,” said Mike, carefully wrapping his sausage in a slice of bread. “Women.”

Women indeed, thought Remus. 

Ottoline and William were back within a few days of Remus, in time to experience a werewolf celebration of the incoming new year. If it proved anything, it proved that werewolves were not all that different from wizards. Both used the occasion to drink more alcohol than Remus felt was advisable, and then to attempt to find someone to get it off with at midnight. Still angry at Tonks, Remus indulged heavily in the spirits that had been brought in for the occasion, and didn’t remember much of the night. 

At a few minutes past two in the morning, he’d left the party to go and vomit copiously behind a tree. He straightened up, feeling simultaneously much better and an awful lot worse, and came face to face with Ottoline dragging a giggling William by the hand. 

“Er, hello?” he said, trying not to look at the pile of vomit by his feet in the hope that they didn’t either. It was not how to be respected, being discovered having drunk so much Muggle vodka that you puked.

“Professor!” shouted William. Remus had to hope everyone around him was so busy drinking that they didn’t notice that slip-up. William had certainly had enough, judging by the slight slur in his voice.

“I didn’t know anyone was here, I’m sorry Remus!” giggled Ottoline. They were still holding hands, and Ottoline was looking at the puddle by Remus’ left foot.

“I’ll go,” he said.

“You’re so great, Remus!” said Ottoline. “Fantastic. Best Remus I know.”

“I want to be you when I grow up!” shouted William.

“No you don’t,” muttered Remus, as he walked off. The ground was rolling a bit under his feet. Swaying, maybe. “Nobody wants to be like me.” He looked back, but the two of them were now snogging away and completely ignoring him. For the best, Remus thought, trudging back to the party. Maybe he’d have another drink.

New Year’s lead to the second hangover in a week for Remus, and an overwhelming feeling of regret. He was never drinking Muggle alcohol again. He seemed to remember he’d said that before, though, at least five times. Perhaps he would never learn.

Ottoline and William seemed to be feeling no such feelings. For the entirety of January, they were snogging every chance they’d got. Remus put his foot down about William moving into Ottoline’s room (“Everyone here thinks she’s my daughter, and there’s no way I’d let any daughter of mine move in with some lad immediately!”) so they had to settle for sneaking around. They were probably doing more than snogging, Mike had helpfully pointed out, but Remus was choosing to ignore that.

“A father would give the talk of the dragons and the Abraxans,” said Mike. 

“Fuck off, Remus had said, but he’d talked to Ottoline anyway. The whole thing had been one long embarrassment from start to finish. He’d also talked to William, not wanting to single one of them out. William had promised to give him the talk right back when he got with someone.

“Fat chance of that,” said Remus.

Fenrir Greyback had come back at the end of January, and taken pledges from those werewolves who were willing to join him. Remus and his friends had worked hard, and to his surprise but deep happiness only about thirty of the pack had signed up immediately. Fenrir looked slightly disappointed with this, but as if pretending it was the plan all along he had given the rest of them a few months more to decide their loyalties, as he had put it. 

February went past in a haze of politicking amongst the werewolves, trying to persuade as many of those who hadn’t already signed up to Greyback’s lot to join them instead, or at least to stay their hand. They thought perhaps that if a large proportion of the werewolves again refused to declare themselves either way, then Greyback would be unable to come down as hard on those who would not join. Remus spent most of the time he wasn’t actively persuading werewolves holed up in his room in the cottage, moping. Mike often came to sit with him, in silence, and the two would stare at the walls together.

March came and went with much of the same. The weather was getting warmer, which Remus was thankful for. Someone had stolen his overcoat in late January, and without magical heating the whole place was freezing even on the warmer days of the winter. Spring could only be a positive. He might soon be able to feel the ends of his toes again. William had been into the town and bought, or possibly stolen, some Muggle socks that promised to keep your toes toasty warm, but they hadn’t worked.

Into April the pack went. Something in the air had changed. Remus had been right that, if lots of wolves refused to join, Greyback would be able to do nothing, and that had worked for almost three months. But it wasn’t going to last forever. Every month, Greyback came, and every month more werewolves joined him. Those that were left were wavering. At least one werewolf a day disappeared, packing up their things and stealing off in the night. Claw had tightened security, placing werewolves loyal to him and to Greyback patrolling the edges of the site so nobody could leave without his express permission. 

It was possible to Apparate away still. Remus and Ottoline checked regularly. They felt an escape route was important. Anyone on the pack site could tell that something was about to blow up here.

The night of Greyback’s fifth visit, the pack was nervous. Four fights had broken out before dinner, which even for this pack was unheard of. At least six of the bigger men were visibly drunk. The kids were dashing around everywhere, feeding off the feelings of the adults. Most of them had been shouted at for nothing by dinner time, and they ate quickly before skidding off elsewhere. Remus quite wanted to join them. 

Instead, he trooped down to the warehouse with the rest of the pack. He found himself in the middle of a slow, silent line of werewolves, each occupied with their own thoughts. Remus focused on Mike’s head in front of him. Behind him, Ottoline and William were clutching each others hands. He was pleased for those two, he really was. They worked, somehow. When it came down to it, they were good people, and they deserved happiness. Like Tonks did.

As they drew closer to the warehouse, Remus realised that some of Greyback’s wolves had been set to flank the doorway and funnel the werewolves into the warehouse. This wasn’t usual; the werewolves were generally left to arrive under their own steam. It was almost as if Greyback wanted to make sure every pack member was in there, except for those authorised to stay behind to mind the kids.

This could not be a good sign.

“Fucking hell,” said Mike.

With increasing nerves, Remus followed those in front of him into the building. It looked the same as ever. The podium of boxes was still there, a table of beers and snacks, the odd remnant of it’s days as a fish packing warehouse dotted around. A few months ago, someone had added a hand-painted banner of a wolf and a full moon to one of the walls. Nothing had changed except for the atmosphere.

“Remus, what do you think they’re going to do?” asked Ottoline, her voice low and shaky.

“I think it’s ultimatum time,” said Remus. It had come out more dramatically than he had intended it to.

“What do we do?” asked William.

“Watch and listen. If they do deliver an ultimatum, they may not let us out of here easily if we do not agree. We may need to use magic. I expect out cover will be blown after tonight anyway. Try to save anyone that doesn’t want to be with Greyback. Do not harm any of them yourself, at least. Hex the fuck out of anyone who’s aligned with the Death Eaters, if it comes to it, but don’t kill.”

“No wand,” said Mike. “I’ll have to lamp them.”

“Does that mean a literal lamp?” asked Ottoline, “or is it a metaphor?”

“Do you see a lamp?” asked Mike.

“Possibly my first ever real battle,” said William, looking far more excited than he ought. Remus remembered that look, though. He’d felt like William did now when he’d first joined the Order of the Phoenix in the last war. It had seemed glamorous and exciting, fighting bad guys and saving the world. He’d quickly learnt that it was just grim and dangerous and depressing. He hoped William didn’t learn that. He desperately wanted a happy ever after for the boy, and for Ottoline too.

And Mike, although Remus had a strong feeling that Mike could more than look after himself.

The doors closed as the last of the werewolves came in. Greyback was already at the front, drinking a beer surrounded by his gang of guards, hanger-ons or whatever they were. The crowd of werewolves was quiet; not silent, but certainly not as loud as they often were. At the front, most of those who had agreed to join Greyback were arranged at the front, facing the remaining werewolves. Remus reckoned there were just as many who hadn’t joined as had.

“Good evening, my friends,” said Greyback, coming up the steps onto the podium. “Tonight is your last night to choose whether you join me or not. So many of you have already made the right choice. I congratulate you! When it comes down to it, those of you who have chosen to come and join my little project with the Dark Lord will have no regrets. You will find yourselves free and able to do whatever you wish, when you wish, without a need to worry about wizards and especially not Muggles!”

“He’s just rehashing old stuff,” said William. “He needs some new arguments.”

“I don’t reckon it’s coming down to words any more,” said Mike.

“But for those of you who have dragged me out this long, not daring to join and not daring to leave, this is your last chance. Join me, for the freedoms you need as a wolf! Don’t join me, and you’ll live to regret it. Choose now.”

Some of the werewolves in the warehouse began to move forwards into the ranks of those who had already joined. Others stayed resolutely still. Remus, Mike, Ottoline and William remained where they were, watching those around them. Remus did a quick calculation. Those who had joined now outnumbered those who hadn’t, but it wasn’t by an overwhelming amount. Some of what they had been doing had worked.

“Ah, so I see a lot of you are still reluctant. Why, may I ask?”

“Remus, don’t you dare!” hissed Ottoline.

“Silence,” said Greyback. “Not got any good reasons, then? Maybe I can persuade you along?”

In a move that had clearly been planned in advance, two of the werewolves in Greyback’s group grabbed at a dark-haired man in the front row of those who remained. He was one Remus had spoken to the week before, and Mike knew him well. With a practiced swing of an arm, one of Greyback’s wolves had the man in a headlock. There was a sickening crunch, and the man fell to the floor and moved no more.

“Anyone thinking it may be better to join me?” asked Greyback. There was a nasty mocking tone in his voice. 

Remus’ stomach swirled. He’d seen death before, but never in a Muggle way. There was an extra brutality to it, knowing that a man’s own arms had done that rather than a force of a spell. He shifted on his feet. He needed to move. He wanted to act. His hand twitched onto his wand, shoved up the sleeve of the navy blue jumper Molly Weasley had knitted him for Christmas.

“Remus…” whispered Ottoline.

“I can’t watch this,” he said to her. William was fingering the edge of his sleeve too. Mike stood calmly, staring at the platform, as if he was watching something perfectly ordinary.

A few more werewolves had shuffled forwards. All of this group had an expression of fear on their faces. As they approached Greyback’s wolves, there was much cheering and back-slapping of the new recruits from those already there. The bravado of those who think they’re doing the right thing, Remus thought, or who need to persuade themselves of that fact.

“But some of you still aren’t convinced?” said Greyback. “Maybe I need some more persuasion? How about her, lads?” His finger was pointing straight at Ottoline.

“Don’t you even think about it.”

Remus spoke without planning it. Most of the eyes in the room had already swivelled to see who Greyback was pointing at, but any that hadn’t did now. Acting more confident than he felt, Remus took two steps to position himself in front of Ottoline. He could feel her hands on his back trying to push him away, but he was slightly stronger and held his ground. 

“Oh, and who might you be?” asked Greyback. “Hang on, I recognise you. Where do I know you from?”

“He’s John,” said Claw, from beside the podium. “That one who fought me over the Muggle thing in the autumn.”

“See, that’s not it,” said Greyback. “Wait, I know you. You’re the werewolf professor, Remus Lupin. Likes wizards, he does. Has a witch for a girlfriend, so I hear. Heard he’d disappeared. Turns out he was here all along. We’ve met before, haven’t we? Long time ago now.”

“A little over thirty years ago,” said Remus. 

“Yes, I was hoping you’d have come to find me before this, if I’m honest. Your dear father had some truly horrible views on werewolves, I seem to remember. He said we all deserved death, didn’t he? I was hoping he’d abandon you and then you’d come find me. I could have done a good job on you, Remus. You’d have had a better life than you did amongst those wizards. Ever manage to get a job after that teaching one? How much hate mail did you get when the parents realised a werewolf had been teaching their kids?”

“Oh, plenty,” said Remus, giving it his best breezy and unconcerned voice. “How many of those kids are you planning to bite?”

“As many as I can get my hands on,” said Greyback with a snarl. “Now, are you going to join me? I’d really quite like you for my collection. Aren’t you involved in that group that’s trying to stop the Dark Lord’s rise?”

“I am,” said Remus.

“But do they respect you?” he asked, coming down from the podium to face Remus on the level. “Do they treat you as their equal? Or are you just their little tame werewolf pet, sent out to do their bidding?”

“I thought that’s what you were to Voldemort?”

There was a sharp intake of breath across the room at Remus’ words. He wasn’t sure whether it was down to his use of Voldemort’s name, or talking back to Greyback. Neither fussed him. The werewolf deserved what he got, and worse, and there was nothing to be feared by using Voldemort’s name. 

“You’ll mind your own on what I am to the Dark Lord.”

“Tell me,” said Remus, beginning to enjoy himself. “Has your Lord Voldemort been telling you you’ll get all these things for the werewolves himself? Does he bother to talk to you personally? And do you think there’s a chance he may just be lying to you? It seems to me that those pureblood types he hangs around with wouldn’t like the werewolves getting power, and maybe in the end they might just matter to him a tiny bit more than you do?”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about, little wizard’s pet.”

“Don’t I?” asked Remus. “I wonder if I do, and maybe that you’re the one talking out of your arse. I wouldn’t want to talk to you, even if I was Voldemort. You’re far too nasty, Greyback. You attacked me when I was a child. You’ve done it since and you’ll do it again. You’d kill them as soon as bite. Killing children is the lowest of the low, and it makes you a fucking cunt.”

Greyback shot towards Remus, grabbing for him. Remus danced out the way. Luckily, the others around him had backed away during his little chat with the other werewolf, and the way was clear for Greyback to fall down when he missed Remus.

“Not great at fighting, there,” Remus said. Taunting the man was unlikely to be a good idea, but he deserved it.

“You’ll join me, or I’ll fucking kill you,” Greyback snarled. “And when I’ve killed you, I’ll get the girl I was after. Who is she, anyway? Why is she so important? Been cheating on that witch of yours with her? She’s a bit young for you, I’d say. Better suited to me, anyway.”

Greyback was pacing now, and the two of them were locked in a pre-fighting dance of stepping towards and then away from the other werewolf. Remus checked on Ottoline and the others in the crowd. She was safely positioned behind William. Mike was nowhere to be seen.

“She’s a friend, and she will not be going anywhere near you.”

“Won’t she?”

“No,” said Remus, and he launched himself at Greyback. 

Remus had managed to catch him off-guard, and knocked the other werewolf over in one swoop. Mike had given him a few pointers on Muggle fighting, and although Remus hadn’t improved much he knew to capitalise on your opponents weakness and used as much force as he could to hit Greyback around the head. He managed to get two hits in before the werewolf staggered up, nearly throwing Remus to the floor himself.

Greyback was bleeding from the nose, and angrier than ever.

“You actually think you can beat me?” he mocked. “Weedy thing, you are. Too used to being a wizard’s pet to fight like a real wolf.”

He swung for Remus, and again Remus ducked out the way. He remembered Mike’s advice. 

“Keep moving, you’ll be faster than some of them and that may be enough,” Mike had said. “They rely on strength, these types.”

Before Greyback could catch back up with him he span, getting himself behind him, and aimed a punch at his back. There seemed to be less people in the room than there had been. One of Greyback’s wolves was coming towards them, but Greyback spat at them.

“Leave him to me,” he growled.

He was faster this time, and Remus was distracted by the disappearing crowd, and Greyback landed his first punch to the stomach. Remus was forced backwards a few steps, doubled over, but managed to aim out a kick somewhere at Greyback’s ankles. It didn’t do a lot, more serving to enrage the other werewolf.

“I’ve got one of these, now,” said Greyback, pulling a wand from the Death Eater robes. “Nice, isn’t it? You still got yours, or shall I see if I can get anything in first?”

He shouted a curse, Remus flailing for his own wand and diving to avoid it. He hit the packed-earth floor of the warehouse as his fingers made contact with the wood of his wand, and fired a spell back from the floor.

What followed was the most unusual duel Remus had ever been a part of. Greyback only knew a handful of spells, almost all horrible curses, and he interspersed firing them at Remus with attempting physical attacks. Remus was on the defensive almost immediately. It was impossible to guess which move Greyback would use next. As a Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, he had to admit it was an effective fighting style for a certain type of wizard.

Remus was fighting back hard, and had almost gained the upper hand when he realised that he had been backed into a corner. How could he have fallen for the oldest of tricks? Greyback threw a curse at him, Remus dodged it and fired back one of his own. It caught Greyback, whose legs began to dance at a ferocious pace. 

With a scream, Greyback launched himself at Remus, legs flailing. He grabbed for Remus’ wand. Remus wrenched it out of the other werewolf’s hand, but lost control of it and watched it spin away from him as he was pinned to the floor by the werewolf with still flailing legs. The legs hit against Remus’ lower half repeatedly as Greyback snarled down at him.

“Got you here. Do I end it now, or later? Maybe Lord Voldemort would be interested in you, what do you say?”

“I imagine he would,” said Remus, struggling to breathe. Greyback had pinned him to the floor by the neck. He could feel blood from somewhere, although it could not have been serious as there was no pain in his head.

“Big opinion of himself, too.” Greyback spoke now to the group of werewolves behind him, who’d followed the duel to the corner of the room, not taking his eyes off Remus. “Get the girl, someone. I’ll take her too.”

“She’s gone!” shouted one of them.

“Gone? Fucking find her then! Do you need everything telling to you?”

Remus breathed a sigh of relief. Ottoline was hopefully safe. The relief was short lived, when he heard another voice in the corner alongside him. 

“She’s well gone,” said William, appearing from nowhere. “Guess we will be too. Come on, Professor.”

With a blast of William’s wand Greyback was flying backwards across the room, and William grabbed Remus’ arm and turned on the spot. Remus felt the familiar sucking sensation of Apparition, but with no idea where William was taking him. The boy didn’t even have a license. 

Remus was forced to concede that he had been lacking an exit plan, though, and at least William had thought of one.


	20. Werewolf House

They landed with a thud, in a wet thorn bush. 

“Fucking shittery,” said William. “There wasn’t meant to be a bush here. You all right, Professor? All limbs still on? Never managed that without Splinching before.”

“I think everything’s still attached, thank you William,” said Remus. “Could you help me out this bush, though?”

William pulled for a second, thought better of it, and dropped Remus’ arm. Remus flopped back into the bush with a muffled ‘oof’. It wasn’t dignified, but he didn’t have the energy to do anything else and he didn’t think his legs would tolerate it anyway. William fumbled in his pocket, waved his wand, and Remus was unceremoniously hoisted into the air.

“Sorry. Forgot I could do magic again now. I’ll levitate you up to the house if you like?”

“I think I’d prefer to walk, if you don’t mind,” said Remus. “And please let me down gently.” The last bit was slightly too late.

“Sorry,” said William again.

“Where are we, anyway?” Remus asked, once he was back on his feet and walking after William. He felt wobbly, but better than he had after his last fight. There was more plant matter on him than he wanted, though.

“Oh, yeah, we’re back at the old pack house,” said William. “Ottoline should be here already. She wanted to rescue you too, but I made her go on ahead. Thought someone should warn Anna and the others, in case you were in a state, and they had their eye on her but they’d all forgotten about me.”

William had no sooner said their names than the two women were running out of the house that was looming in the distance and across the grass towards Remus and William.

“Remus! Are you alright?” shouted Anna.

“Remus! I’m so glad you are here! William made me go, I wanted to help you, oh Remus!”

“Much love for the rescuer,” grumbled William.

They collectively hustled Remus into the house, and upstairs to the bedroom he’d used over the summer when he’d led the pack. Anna fussed over him, checking him for injuries, while Ottoline passed her items. She’d tried to check him all over, and had managed to remove his jumper and shirt before he could protest, but he refused to let her take his trousers off. A man needed his dignity. 

Once they were certain he was physically fine, they made him rest and drink a Restorative Draught on the bed while William told the story of his daring rescue.

“And he’d got Remus backed into a corner, Remus had been fighting fantastically, he’s so fast! Greyback got caught by a spell, and knocked Remus down with him, and I Disillusioned myself and ran into the corner with them. When Greyback threw Remus’ wand, I grabbed it, here you are Professor,” he handed back the wand to Remus, “and waited. Got my chance to reveal myself and we Apparated off. Misjudged it slightly, hence the twigs in Remus’ hair.”

“You were so brave,” said Ottoline. She’d manoeuvred herself onto his lap and was happily sitting stroking his hair as he spoke. Slightly nauseating, but they were good together. She made him sit up and pay attention more, take things more seriously, and he calmed her down.

“You both were,” said Anna. “And Ottoline, I’m sure.”

“Where’s Mike?” asked Remus, realising who was missing.

“We don’t know,” said Ottoline. “He slipped away from us as you first challenged Greyback, when everyone was distracted. I saw him opening the doors, and he lead a fair few people through it. Some of Greyback’s lot near the back noticed everyone leaving, and started a scuffle. He was in that last I saw of him.”

“He’ll be okay,” said Anna. “He can take care of himself.”

“I hope so,” said Remus.

Anna threw Ottoline and William out before long, stating that Remus needed rest. Remus didn’t feel particularly fragile, but the younger two needed their alone time, and their sleep, and he didn’t want them to sit with him out of duty. And Ottoline likely wanted to see her sister for the first time in months. The two of them half ran out, hands joined, Ottoline’s golden blonde curls dancing after her. Remus wished being a young werewolf in wartime had been as happy for him, as it seemed to be for them. 

“Will you go back?” asked Anna, seating herself in an armchair by the window. She looked older than she had when Remus had last seen her, back in October. Her eyes were more lined, her face more stern. She had lost her calm, collected demeanour and was nervous and twitchy now. Remus supposed he looked worse. He didn’t look in a mirror often.

“No,” Remus replied. “I don’t think I could if I wanted to. The ones that would be friendly are the ones that will have left. The others wouldn’t let me back. I’ve most likely failed, but there we are.”

“Have you?” said Anna. “You persuaded a few not to join. Ottoline told me you found out a lot about their plans and how they worked. You at the very least disrupted their attempts to make all that pack join You-Know-Who. If that’s your idea of failure, then your successes must be amazing.”

“It’s possible, I don’t get many of them.”

Remus shifted himself around on the bed, trying to get himself into a comfortable position. He’d never really liked this bed. He’d been busy on the day they’d all moved in, mediating arguments and dealing with other people’s questions, and he’d been given the last room available. The bed was comfortable, but something had never felt right about it. The green velvet coverings were too slippery to get properly wrapped in. 

And his diamond boots were almost certainly too small. Remus thought he needed to appreciate having a bed at all, not continue whining about this one.

Anna was watching him closely from the matching green velvet chair. So much green. Remus didn’t like green.

“Remus, are you alright?”

In answer, Remus sat up and chucked the covers off the bed. 

“I hate these stupid covers,” he said. 

Anna sat back. The curtains behind her chair, also green but in a oddly shiny fabric, blew open slightly and Remus could see the sun beginning to rise across the gardens of the house. He’d had no clear idea of what the time was for a while now, but he hadn’t thought it was dawn quite yet.

“Well,” said Anna, “we can get you some new ones.”

“I’m not going to stay long,” said Remus. “Just until I’m safe to travel, and then I’ll be out of your way.”

“What do you mean?” asked Anna.

“I can’t stay here,” he said. “I’ve caused problems again. I nearly got myself killed, as I’m sure that’s where Greyback was going, and I put William in danger having to save me. I’m going to go and find Mike.”

“And exactly how did you put William in danger? He made the choice to do what he did.”

Remus paused. “You could argue that. But if I hadn’t been so stupid as to argue with Fenrir Greyback, of all people, then I wouldn’t have got myself into a situation when he needed to make that choice.”

“Ottoline told him to leave with her, you know. She said they should bring back more people, and that it would be foolish to try and save you alone. She was distraught, because she thought she was leaving both of you to your deaths. We were preparing to come to your rescue when we heard that crash of yours in the garden. And, besides, even she said that somebody needed to do what you did, otherwise there would have been even more deaths.”

Remus thought of the man who had died, and flopped back into the pillows. “He didn’t deserved death. He didn’t do anything except stand up for what was right. Nobody deserves to die just because somebody else wants to show they’re tough. I’ve lost so many people because of all of this, and I don’t want to lose any more, Anna. I didn’t have that many friends to start with.”

“I know,” said Anna. “You have friends here, but I’m going to tell you what I told one of my children once. You deserve friends and happiness. But, you’ve got a tendency to be a bit self-centred, and the more self-centred you get, the less friends you’re going to have.” Seeing Remus’ outraged face, as he tried to rise back out of the pillows and failed, getting stuck in them, she thought for a moment. “I’m not saying this to wind you up, I’m saying it to help you. You’re a lot like Callie, my eldest. She goes off in one and feels sorry for herself and forgets things, sometimes.

“What I’m saying is, I understand why you have these tendencies but they aren’t going to help you in your life. You said before that you can’t go out with that girl, Tonks was it?, because you can’t put that kind of life on her. Well, knowing you, you’ve explained exactly what it would entail and she understands, I think, because she doesn’t sound stupid. So have you thought about maybe accepting that she knows the risks and wants you anyway?”

“That’s exactly what she told me,” said Remus. He didn’t like the idea of all the women he knew agreeing about this. Next he knew Ottoline would be giving him lectures. Ottoline was the last person he wanted telling him off. He had a sudden vision of Ottoline in the style of Molly Wesley, with loads of kids and dealing with them with style and very little apparent effort. It amused him that William may one day find himself in an Arthur Weasley role. Except without the Muggle obsession.

“See,” said Anna, although Remus didn’t. It still wasn’t logical.

He told Anna that. 

“Love isn’t logical,” she said. “I loved my husband. When I was bitten, I assumed that he would continue to love me. I’m essentially the person I was the day before, when he’d given me a kiss before I went out to visit a friend on the full moon and told me he loved me. Perhaps you would argue it is logical he didn’t, but I wouldn’t.”

“I’m just not sure that a romance between a werewolf and a non-werewolf can work.”

“I don’t think you’ll know unless you try it.”

“I don’t want to hurt her.”

“I think you don’t want to hurt yourself.”

Remus struggled against the pillows once more to try and pull himself upright. It was a losing battle, although whether because of the pillows or the effects of the fight on his body he wasn’t sure. He decided it was the pillow’s fault, and launched one of them from the bed to join the covers on the floor.

He had nothing to say to Anna’s words. Not really. Of course he didn’t want to hurt himself. Nobody sets out to hurt themselves! 

But what would happen to him if it all failed? He’d have lost someone he considered a friend, which hurt more and more each time, but wouldn’t ruin him. He could survive it. 

“If I hurt her during a moon, that would ruin me, yes. I don’t want to do that because I wouldn't be able to live with myself, yes. But what about her? What if I kill her?”

“What are the chances of that?” asked Anna, but she didn't look convinced.

“I love her so much that I cannot risk it,” said Remus.

“I loved a man after my husband,” said Anna. She had been looking at him all the way through their previous conversation, but was now finding her fingernails very interesting indeed. “He was kind, brave, very intelligent, and always put other people’s needs in front of his own. He cared about everyone so very much that he forgot to put his own needs first just occasionally. It’s difficult, when you love someone, to make choices that are the right ones for both of you, but mostly I think people should just try.”

“Who was he?”

“You,” she said, simply. She’d picked at the skin around her nails during their conversation, as if through nervous energy, and it was red and bleeding slightly. “But somehow I doubt that you’ll want me.”

And Remus was left feeling even more confused than before. 

“I don’t,” he said, not sure where he was going. “I can’t, I don’t…”

“I know,” she said. “You’re in love with Tonks, which is why I’ve never mentioned this before.”

Remus looked at her. She was a good person. He valued her kindness, her ability to find the good in everyone, and her ability with potions and healing. She was an attractive woman, too. He imagined he could have a long, happy life with her, without the dangers that would come with a relationship with a witch.

But he felt nothing except for friendship, and he couldn’t do it.

“It’s not that I don’t want to be able to,” he said, fairly lamely, “I like you, I just don’t…”

“Love me. I know. I accept that. I didn’t really expect you to. Heroes fall for the heroine, not the support staff.”

“Sorry,” said Remus, even more lamely. “I don’t have much experience with finding women in love with me.”

“It’s obvious,” said Anna, a faint trace of her usual smile appearing on her face. “You know, I fancied you at school.”

“What? You knew me at school?” asked Remus. “I’m sorry,” he said again, “that doesn’t make me sound any better as a person, does it?”

“I was in your year, in Ravenclaw. I don’t think you understood the effect your gang had on the school. You were all so incredibly fanciable, even the little short one. My best friend was obsessed with Sirius, she used to doodle ‘Mrs Sirius Black’ and pictures of hearts all over her parchment in History of Magic and then ask to copy my notes. Girls would actually panic if they saw you. You’d stroll around the corridors like you owned the place, and even though you were in so much trouble all the time everyone still liked you.”

“Did you ever write Mrs Remus Lupin?”

“No,” she said. “Maybe. I was sixteen, seventeen at most.”

“I never understood the girls at school,” he said. “You all just giggled at us and never said anything.”

Anna laughed, and Remus could imagine the pair of them at Hogwarts, her giggling like she was now and him and his friends strutting around. 

“Sorry if I was a bit of a twat,” he said. 

“You weren’t. Not really. Not any more than any other teenage boy.”

Remus thought of Harry suddenly, who despite all of his trials had still managed to be a twat to girls occasionally from what Ginny had told him at Christmas.

“Do me a favour, though,” said Anna, “to make up for being a bit of a twat. Next time you see Tonks, just listen to her properly. Okay? I’m not saying start a relationship with her, or with me, but at least hear her out. And also get some sleep now.”

“Alright,” said Remus. He reached down for the covers, remembered that he could use magic now, and levitated them onto his bed. When Anna left, he stripped down and Summoned the pyjamas he’d left behind here in a drawer, all without moving off the bed. Being able to use magic again was like having a body part back, he thought as he drifted off to sleep. He knew he would dream of wolves and Hogwarts.


	21. The Astronomy Tower

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a long chapter but I didn’t like any of the obvious break points, so here it is :)
> 
> Just wanted to say thank you to all you who are reading this too!

Remus was struggling. He’d thought he’d come off lightly after his fight with Fenrir Greyback, but his recovery had been more troublesome than he’d thought. The combination of magical and non-magical injuries he’d sustained, on top of the others he’d got in the last year, was doing strange things to his body. A jagged cut on his arm was the biggest issue, mainly because it wouldn’t close up. He wasn’t sure if magic or Fenrir’s nails had caused it, which didn’t help. He and Anna had tried all kinds of remedies to try and stop the bleeding, but he’d ended up walking around with it bandaged most of the time, and taking Blood Replenishing Potions regularly . 

It was on the cursed arm, from his incident a year ago now with the Fiendfyre, but he had decided against tell Anna that story. Not that it would help to tell her. If it was linked to that, he would need Molly or Snape to fix it.

The injuries were only about half of the problem. Adjusting back to life with his first pack was hard. He’d been used to hiding things in Great Yarmouth, not trusting people, and drinking far too much so he fitted in better. The first night he was out of his bed, he lurked in the corner with a can of beer for three hours, not understanding the baffled looks the rest of the pack were giving him. 

It was only when William came over and dragged him out that he realised what he’d been doing. And most of him still wanted to go back in the corner, with its cosy red armchair and the fire not too far away, and ignore everyone.

And, as if that wasn’t enough, the problem of Anna was stacked on top of the problem with Tonks. Anna had been awkward with him ever since revealing her feelings, and had rarely been in the same room apart from if she had discovered a new remedy that might help his arm. She’d delegated the bandage changing and potion supplying to Eugenia, who was weirdly smily all the time.

People were strange. 

He still wanted to go and find Mike. The Werewolf House, once a place he loved and considered a safe haven, now seemed too small and too full. He’d taken to walking the grounds twice a day, going to the back where there was a small orchard and lying on the floor amongst the apple trees, and then trying not to think.

It wasn't that he didn’t like the house, or the pack. The house was the most comfortable place he’d ever lived. His own room, with a nice bed and now much improved bedcovers. A library with maybe a couple of thousand books on all sorts of topics, and a room filled with games and entertainments. The grounds were extensive, and even had a fountain. The people he either considered friends, or very much liked. But it all felt like it was trapping him, and that he was somehow not supposed to be here.

Maybe it was that he wasn’t doing anything. Remus’ name and face would be known by every werewolf allied to Greyback and Voldemort by now , and the Death Eaters, even those who hadn’t already been aware of him as a member of the Order of the Phoenix, would know it all too. Some of the others had been allowed out to find out the status of things, but Remus was stuck inside the beautiful, luxurious, prison-like house.

It had been weeks since he was allowed to be useful. All he’d done is write letters to the Order with the information others had gathered. At least he could owl from here rather than relying on the Muggle post. Stamps had been fun, but it was so slow. 

He was lying under the trees in the afternoon sun, doing very badly at not thinking, when he became aware of someone watching him. Cautiously, holding his wand, he looked around. Ever used to wartime, and with months of not being able to use it, Remus found himself constantly clutching his wand in any slightly uncertain situation.

Death Eaters rarely wore bright pink shoes, so he was probably safe. 

“Remus?” said Ottoline. She had taken a great liking to Muggle clothes during their time in the Great Yarmouth pack, and was sporting jeans and an oversized striped t-shirt with the eye-wateringly pink shoes. Her blonde hair was plaited back with a huge piece of fabric on the end of it. “There’s an owl for you.”

“Alright,” he said. He pulled himself up to a standing position. “What’s that in your hair?”

“Oh, this?” she said, holding it out towards him. It was the same shade of pink as her shoes. “It’s a scrunchie. Muggle girls are mad for them. One of the women in Great Yarmouth gave it to me, I’d forgotten all about it.”

“It’s interesting,” said Remus.  
“I don’t think you’re supposed to like it at your age,” said Ottoline. “Mum would hate it. Everything I know about Muggle fashion suggests that’s the point.”

They walked back to the house in a companionable silence, out of the orchard gate, across the lawn, through the fancy gardens with the fountain and into the back porch. Sam was in the kitchen, chatting away to the owl and feeding it bits of bread from his sandwich. 

“I like owls,” said Sam when Remus entered, in way of explanation. “Wouldn’t mind working with almost any animal, actually.”

“William is a lot like an animal,” said Ottoline, and began to expand on that theory while Remus carefully untied his letter.

Dear Remus,

I hope this letter finds you well. I’m sorry I have not had time to write to you personally after our little chat on that charming Scottish island last autumn, but my mind has been much occupied of late as I’m sure you’ll understand. Molly Weasley informed me of your altercation with one Fenrir Greyback, and I must say I am proud of your efforts. Not many would have been as brave as to stand up to him as you did.

I do however have a request for you. I find myself needing to leave Hogwarts for a night, maybe a small amount longer, and will be requiring some extra security. I would not ask this of you, knowing your role is important to the Order, but I am in need of your services to patrol the school in my absence. Several others who would usually perform this job are unavailable, and naturally you were my first choice to replace them.

Please advise by return owl if you are available. I shall have need of you tonight.

Yours,

Albus Dumbledore

His role being important to the Order indeed, Remus thought. Half the werewolves here could write letters to Molly, and it wasn’t the fault of the ones who couldn’t. Not every werewolf was educated. 

He’d go, of course. He was excited at the prospect of leaving this place, even for one night, already.

“Sam?” he asked. “Can you handle things here for a night? I’ve got to go do patrol duty.”

“For your wizards?” asked Sam. “Of course.” 

“Can I come?” asked Ottoline. “I’m so fucking bored.”

Associated with him as she was, she had also been banned from leaving the house. So had William. In his bout of self-pity, Remus had forgotten that. She would likely be feeling as he did. 

“Sorry,” he said. “When I get back, we’ll work out something for us to do that doesn’t involve us sitting around here.”

“Excellent,” said Ottoline. “I’ll think of stuff we could do while you’re gone.”

He decided to leave as soon as he could. He could Apparate to Hogsmeade, and if he was lucky and the village looked safe, he could maybe get a drink in the Three Broomsticks before having to walk up to the castle.

When he arrived, the Three Broomsticks was spookily quiet. He stuck his head around the door, the hood of his cloak still up and partially shrouding his face. Madam Rosmerta, the landlady, who had never been anything but friendly to Remus, glared at him. 

“Take that hood down if you want to be let in here!” she shouted. Remus left.

He wandered down the completely deserted main street. Several shopkeepers were alone in their shops, and most of the rest were closed. Only in the apocethary were there other wizards, and they were as nervous and twitchy as the shop owners. All of them refused to catch Remus’ eye. The wizarding world wasn’t having a great experience with men in hoods at the moment, Remus thought. He still didn’t plan on taking it down.

Instead, he sought refuge in the Hogs Head, which as always welcomed everyone no matter their taste in headgear. Remus pulled the hood a bit further down as he crossed the threshold. Even if there were no Death Eaters in the bar, there was always a chance there would be someone there who would recognise him and be interested in his whereabouts. Greyback had put something of a price on his head.

The bar as usual was filled with the edges of wizarding society. Two heavily hooded men in the corner were clearly trading substances. Remus could tell that by the clinking of bottles, the jangle of coins, and the furtive looks the one in the deep red cloak was giving the bartender. A pair of what he thought were witches, although it was hard to tell, were arguing about the illegal breeding one of them was doing in her back yard. An elderly man, alone in not wearing anything on his head, was sipping a butterbeer in the corner, reading The Quibbler. Periodically, he flicked his long grey hair back over his shoulder, causing it to splash into the beer of a middle-aged warlock in purple who was getting increasingly angry.

Aberforth Dumbledore was surveying his pub from the bar. The man had clearly spotted the illegal traders, and likely the four wizards in the corner who were very obviously spoiling for a fight, too. He was simply watching them. Remus had no doubt Aberforth would throw anyone out who started to fight, but he would ignore almost anything else. That was why people came to the Hogs Head. It wasn’t for the food, which was non-existant, the choice of drinks, of which there were few, or the clean, welcoming atmosphere, which also was not present.

“Firewhisky, please,” said Remus, reaching the bar.

‘Oh, it’s you,” said Aberforth, recognising him. “Still in with my brother?”

“Yes,” said Remus.

“Man needs to know what’s good for him, and it isn’t this,” said Aberforth, although whether he was talking about Remus, Albus or himself it wasn’t clear. “Two sickles.”

Remus handed over the coins, careful not to touch the bar. It just looked as though it was going to be sticky. He climbed onto a bar stool with his drink and sipped at it.

“That Sirius Black and you stole a whole barrel of that stuff when you were at Hogwarts, didn’t you?”

Remus tried not to look shifty. He hadn’t thought Aberforth had known about that. Well, at least not known it was him.

They’d gone down one of the secret passages into Hogshead the night before James’ 17th birthday, and stolen the barrel from the Hogs Head before rolling it back up the hill into the castle. Peter had been meant to join them, but he’d got detention for not running away fast enough after pranking Severus Snape. They’d tried the Three Broomsticks first, but it was much more secure than the Hogs Head had been.

“Yeah, my brother told me that your lot had been found hungover like dogs with the empty barrel the day after. Decided not to press charges. Did the same myself when I was at Hogwarts.”

“Nice of you.”

“Ain’t no nice about it, boy, you’ve come in this pub enough times to know the last thing I want is Ministry officials nosing round. They’d scare away all my best customers.”

It was true. Even down to Remus himself, likely every customer here would flee immediately if anyone from the Ministry came in. 

Aberforth was not a man of words, and having done his talking he wandered off to stare more closely at the wizards spoiling for a fight. Remus finished his glass and decided to start the walk to the castle.

On arrival, he reported to Minerva’s office as he’d been instructed. The Deputy Headmistress was busying herself with the kettle, and Bill Weasley stood by her desk, reading a copy of Transfiguration Today. 

“Ah, good evening Remus,” said Minerva. “Tea?”

He was about to accept when he was interrupted by the door slamming into the backs of his legs. Remus fell forward, saved only by Bill Weasley throwing aside the magazine and catching Remus in his arms.

“Oh Merlin, I’m so sorry!” started Tonks, before realising who she’d knocked down and going silent.

“Alright, Remus?” asked Bill.

Remus felt sure Tonks felt the exact same as he did, judging by the blush on her cheeks. This was about as embarrassing as reunions got.

“Okay, everybody,” said Minerva, her crisp tone breaking the awkward silence. “As Albus is gone, you will be assisting me and a few other trusted staff members in patrolling the corridors. We do not expect any disturbances, but Albus felt as do I that you cannot be too careful with students’ safety in these troubled times. Bill, if you pair with Filius when he gets here, Remus, you and Miss Tonks…”

“No,” said Remus and Tonks, at exactly the same time.

“Very well,” said Minerva, unflustered, as Bill’s eyes goggled at them, “Remus, you can come with me. Miss Tonks, with Pomona Sprout.

They set off when the other staff arrived. Minerva and Remus took the ground floor first, checking and re-spelling each of the entrances to the castle with spells that warned of anyone opening them and spells that froze intruders in their tracks. They did some windows on the fourth floor, the second and third having been dealt with by other pairs, and did the rounds of the secret passageways that were still passable.

“Dare I ask what was so wrong with Miss Tonks?” asked Minerva, as they ascended the stairs to the top floor of the castle to check on Gryffindor Tower.

“I daresay you do,” said Remus. He still felt a strong sense of naughtiness when being anything other than deferential to his former teacher.

“Molly Weasley has given me all the information I require,” said Minerva. “I was wanting to know whether you would tell me yourself.”

”Is there anyone Molly Weasley hasn’t told?” asked Remus, not intentionally aloud.

“With the exception of Harry Potter and his friends, I suspect not,” said Minerva. To Remus’ relief, she didn’t push the matter further.

They had checked on Gryffindor Tower and were moving along the corridor towards the North Tower when they heard crashing noises from ahead. Remus dashed forward, followed by Minerva only slightly behind. As they rounded the corner, they found Ginny and Ron Weasley, and Neville Longbottom. All three had drawn wands and a look of intense fear on their faces.

“Death Eaters! Death Eaters in the castle!” shouted Neville, as Minerva opened her mouth to tell them off. It remained open. 

“Where?” asked Remus.

“Came in through the Room of Requirement, threw Peruvian Darkness Powder, fucking Fred and George sold it to Malfoy no doubt!” said Ginny. It was a mark of the seriousness of the situation that Minerva didn’t even try to tell her off for the swearing. “Couldn’t see where they went.”

“Malfoy let them in, he was there!” said Ron.

“We couldn’t get any of them, sorry professors,” said Neville.

“You’ve done well to alert us,” said Minerva. With a wave of her wand, her cat Patronus slipped off to alert the other Order members in the castle. “And I won’t take any points for being out of bounds at night time. Please now go back to your dormitories.”

“No,” said Neville, looking startled at his own daring. “I mean, Professor, we want to stay and fight. There’s a lot of them, and you might need the help. Professor.”

“Ordinarily I would say that we do not need students to help us fight our battles,” said Minerva. “But in this case, and considering the three of you more than proved your skills last summer, I will allow you to help us. Neville and Ginevra, if you and Remus go down one floor and check there, myself and Mr Weasley will take this one. Duel to incapacitate, and alert me as soon as is practical if you come across any Death Eaters. If possible, do not engage without backup. Good luck.” 

Without further words, the older witch turned and swept away, in the direction the students had run from. Her wand was raised, and her back straight and proud. Minerva always rose to the occasion, and in fact looked in her element. There was something about the set of her shoulders, the jut of her chin, and the way she stared down an opponent that made you just know Minerva McGonagall would survive this and that she would enjoy the process of ridding the world of Lord Voldemort and his followers.

Ron was entirely less convincing, but he followed her all the same.

“Come on, then,” said Remus, and set off towards the stairs with Neville and Ginny in tow.

They found almost nothing on the next level down, except for Peeves. Remus was pondering cursing the poltergeist when he heard a crash and a bellowed curse from the floor above. Turning to the two students and beckoning them to follow, he ran towards the nearest staircase.

Minerva was battling two Death Eaters at once with her characteristic speed and style, while next to her Ron competently dealt with another. Remus threw a Stunning Spell at a fourth from halfway up the stairs, and the Death Eater hit the floor with a satisfying thunk.

There was little time to think after that. More Death Eaters appeared, but thankfully so did more Order members. Amongst them was a student, a Slytherin, Lucius Malfoy’s son. Draco, Remus thought. Remus was closest, but reluctant to curse the boy, and so were the teachers. It was left to Ginny to try, who narrowly missed as Malfoy dashed up the stairs to the Astronomy Tower.

“Harry says he’s a Death Eater!” she shouted to Remus and Bill. She dodged as a jet of bright blue light shot towards her, landing behind a suit of armour. The Death Eaters had used some kind of spell, or perhaps the powder Ginny and the others had mentioned earlier, and although it was not quite dark visibility was certainly impaired. Across the hallway, Remus thought he could make out Minerva, Hermione and Ron on their feet and battling away. He heard Tonks shout a hex from the other end of the hall, and the answering bellow of whichever Death Eater she was fighting.

A second jet of light flew past Remus, and the suit of armour Ginny was still behind began to topple precariously. Bill turned his wand onto the armour, stopping it mid-fall and pulling Ginny out, and Remus span to look for the attacker. He couldn’t see anyone, except a vicious-looking blond Death Eater firing curse after curse at Neville Longbottom as he valiantly held up a Shield Charm. Remus ran forward to assist, not wanting to fire a spell in the semi-darkness from a distance, but arrived slightly too late; Neville’s shield charm failed just as another spell shot at him and the boy fell down. 

Remus half-growled and immediately cursed the Death Eater back. He’d always had a soft spot for Neville. Before he could do much damage, the blond man had disappeared and another was attacking Remus from behind. It was impossible. There was more of them, and they had no qualms about causing serious injury or death. Remus had never used an Unforgiveable Curse, and never intended to, but these Death Eaters fired them off with an abandon he hadn’t seen since the first war. 

He managed to curse a dark-haired Death Eater down to the floor, giving him a moment to breathe, and looked around to check on Neville. He was back on his feet, bleeding slightly and looking dazed but relatively unhurt.

“Are you alright?” Remus called.

“I think so,” said Neville, with a shake in his voice. There was a scream from across the hall. “Fucking hell, who is that?”

Neville and Remus ran forwards together towards the sound, arriving alongside Minerva whose hat was now missing. Bill Weasley was on the floor, blood pooling around him. On top of him was a man in Death Eater robes, but without the mask. 

“Depulso!” shouted Remus, and the Death Eater flew backwards off Bill and hit the suit of armour behind with a crash of metal. He looked up to see his attacker, and a nasty grin spread across the man’s face.

“Oh, Lupin. Little wizard’s pet tries to take me on again. Got any teenagers to rescue you this time?” he leered.

“No,” said Remus.

“I’ll help you!” shouted Neville, spectacularly missing the point. Remus felt a little rush of affection for him, anyway. He hadn’t had to say that.

There was a crash and another, this time muffled, scream from the other end of the hallway, then the sound of thundering footsteps. Tonks was being pursued by the huge blond Death Eater who’d attacked Neville. Minerva was crouched down next to Bill Weasley, muttering spells to try and stem the flow of blood from his face and chest.

Remus needed to keep Greyback distracted. The wolf was climbing to his feet. His clothes were ripped and stained with the blood that was dripping from his mouth, long yellow nails on his outstretched hands. He stood in a half-crouching position, assessing Remus with his eyes and ready to pounce. 

“Hey,” said Greyback. “That witch of yours here? How about that little girl werewolf you were shagging before? Do they know about each other?”

“Fuck off, Greyback,” said Remus, and wordlessly volleyed three hexes at Greyback in a row. He dodged all of them, crashing backwards into the wall again. He seemed to be almost impervious to pain, as he was back on his feet and advancing towards Remus and Neville in seconds. They ducked as a green curse, almost certainly a Killing Curse, shot past them from the Death Eater who was pursuing Tonks back in the other direction. Neville recovered first, and floored the man with a shout of “Stupefy!”

“Good one, Neville!” said Tonks, stopping to pause for breath. As soon as she’d done so, she clocked Greyback, and turned her wand on him too.

“Ooh, I recognise you,” he said, licking his lips. “The pet’s witch. Tasty, you look. Bit older than I’d go for, in a woman, but if it’s good enough for him… I’ll just kill him first, mind. Unless you’d rather he watch?” 

Greyback didn’t wait for an answer and launched himself at Remus. Tonks, Remus and Neville acted simultaneously, and a fraction of a second after so did Minerva from the floor next to Bill. A couple of the spells collided in mid-air, but enough hit Greyback that he was slammed into the wall for a third time. This only seemed to slow him down, and Remus was ready to throw spells again when a woman in Death Eater robes shouted “Greyback! The tower! We need you!”. With a final swipe at Remus, the werewolf turned to run towards the tower.

“Bite you again later,” he said to Remus.

“Fucking hell,” said Tonks, and the three of them rejoined the battle.

Neville ran at the staircase after Greyback, but was thrown back. Remus was trying to get there to follow, perhaps curse Greyback in his back and take him out the fight completely. He was almost ready to cast an Unforgivable Curse. How dare that man say that to Tonks? He threw his anger at the other werewolf into the battle, and at least managed to avoid any further harm coming to any Order members. 

The battle was a blur from that point. Snape was there, and then he wasn’t. Remus felt a surge of relief, more help was here, and then a sense of the inevitable. Snape was not here to help them. He was finally able to get to the stairs, and made to run up them before he too was thrown back almost the whole width of the hallway. He skidded the last part, and began duelling another Death Eater before he’d stopped moving backwards. 

Snape past again. Remus threw a hex his direction, but missed. The rest of the Death Eaters started leaving, and Harry, where had he come from?, was chasing them. Remus tried to follow, to help and protect, but was prevented from doing so by a final curse from a departing Death Eater which brought down a large amount of masonry in the corridor. He narrowly avoided getting squashed with it, alongside Minerva and Tonks. The three of them screeched to a halt just short of the falling debris, wands outstretched. 

They looked at each other. The look on the face of both witches mirrored what he felt. Exhaustion, and a feeling of having lost the battle. As one, they turned to check on their troops. Remus’ thoughts turned instantly to Bill. 

Greyback was on the ground, paralysed with a spell. He seemed to have abandoned the wand he’d been given, perhaps he’d struggled to use it. Remus thought he probably preferred to fight his usual way. The werewolf he knew wouldn’t have liked to be at a distance from his prey, but to get up close and to smell the fear as he attacked. Despicable.

“You alright?” asked Tonks. “Bill’s on his way to the Hospital Wing. Neville’s there too. Everyone else is okay.”

“Yeah,” said Remus, unconvincingly. 

“What the hell went on between you two?” asked Tonks, indicating Greyback on the floor.

“He tried to kill me,” said Remus, binding the werewolf firmly with ropes from his wand and suppressing the urge to cause him lasting damage. “Almost succeeded. Ottoline says I wasn’t being smart, but I’d like to have seen a better way to get out the situation I was in.”

Tonks opened her mouth as if to say something, thought better of it, and walked away.


	22. Love Blooms

All those involved in the battle had been requested to report to the Hospital Wing. Remus went there, as much to provide advice to Madam Pomfrey on the nature of werewolf-caused injuries as anything. He wasn’t himself hurt at all. This was in contrast to his attempts at Muggle-style fighting. Remus vastly preferred magical duelling. 

Perhaps Greyback had a point about him being a tame werewolf.

He felt distinctly awkward the whole time he was in there, and it was only made worse by Tonks’ outburst about loving him. He had explained everything again, but somehow with half the Order and a bunch of teenagers listening his reasons hadn’t seemed so compelling any more. All of them had essentially sided with Tonks. 

After Minerva had left to deal with the Ministry, Tonks made it perfectly clear that the conversation was not over. Remus, having no desire to hash everything out in front of an audience again, suggested they take a walk.

They walked in silence through the castle and out through a side door into a courtyard. Remus vaguely remembered it as a route to the Herbology greenhouses, and so an unlikely place to find anyone this late at night.

Tonks sunk down onto a bench, but he remained standing. She looked up at him in the silence, fiddling with the tendrils of a plant. Remus had never trusted any plant this close to the greenhouses.He began to pace backwards and forwards, seven steps to the stairs leading back into the castle and then seven back to a point just in front of her bench.

“I don’t know what to say, Tonks. I’ve said it all already.”

She glared at him. Leaves filled her left hand, and the plant was looking slightly more bare than it had done moments before. It probably wasn’t toxic or otherwise dangerous.

“You’ve said a lot of stuff. Repetitive, pointless stuff and you know I don’t care about a word of it. So unless you’ve got something new that you’ve not yet told me, which I don’t think I have, then I’m going to have to hex you.” 

He resumed pacing, and she resumed her shredding. She probably would hex him. Perhaps he should start running, and hopefully he could get back to Molly and Arthur before she could manage to catch him. Though with all her Auror training, that was unlikely, and it was more likely he’d get hexed in the corridors and embarrass himself in front of half of the students of Hufflepuff or something.

And if he did manage to get back to the hospital wing unscathed Molly might hex him. What it with the women he knew and their tempers?

The problem here was that he didn’t actually have anything new to tell her. He was still too old. He was still a werewolf. This was all still an incredibly bad idea, and however much parts of him didn’t want that to be true, it was.

“I haven’t got anything new,” he said finally, pausing in his pacing and staring down at her as if in challenge. “I’m still far too old and dangerous for you, and none of that will be changing. So go ahead and do your worst.”

Remus flung his arms open wide to give her a better target. He still wasn’t sure if the hexing threat was real.

“And I still don’t care,” she said. “Molly is right. You want me to have someone, what was it, young and whole. But look at Bill. He was everything you think I should have had, and now he isn’t. Not that I fancy Bill. Or ever have. This is war, Remus, and I know I was too young to be around last time and you think I don’t get it, but I do and I know nothing is certain. Bill is scarred now, Albus is dead, and tomorrow you or I could be the one to get mauled by some Death Eater or that half-crazed werewolf and I don’t want to regret a thing.”

“You have far more of a chance with someone who isn’t me. Even if we survive this, I’m guaranteed to be damaged still. I know it’s all uncertain, but I want you to give yourself the best chance you can of some normality at the end of all of this.”

Tonks stood up, shoving her wand into the back pocket of her jeans.

“If I’d have wanted normality,” she said, taking a step forward and looking straight into his eyes, “do you think I would have joined the Order?”

And then she grabbed his face and kissed him. Her lips were soft, and salty from the tears she’d shed over Albus’ death. Her hands were soft too, but strong, whether through physical or mental strength Remus didn’t know. He'd always known she was a strong woman, but she would have to have incredible strength to handle his life. Could she, when he could barely handle it half of the time?

And then suddenly he was kissing her back.

Nothing had changed that he could put his finger on, but yet something had. 

Moments later, or perhaps hours, he didn’t know, Tonks broke away from him. She took a step back, and fixed him with her eyes again.

“I don’t care about normal. I don’t care about however hard you perceive your life to be. The werewolf thing we can deal with. I can handle your unresolved grief over James and Lily and Sirius, your anger with Peter. I can cope with the threats of death and god-knows-what from Greyback. I can even cope with your lack of any kind of positive thoughts about yourself and your complete inability to understand that you are worth something for anything other than your defence skills. Because I love you Remus Lupin, and I won’t be happier with anyone else because if I can’t have you I won’t be having anyone. 

“Do you know how many people I’ve turned down because I was waiting for you to screw your head on right and admit you loved me? Do you know how I’ve felt for the last year because you won’t even give me a proper reason other than that ‘too old, too dangerous’ bullcrap? I’ve told you a hundred times we can handle anything, because if I’ve survived this war this far then I reckon I can handle one werewolf.

“I’m giving you a last chance now Remus. Say you don’t want something with me, and I’ll stop bothering you. I’ll go off and I’ll fight this war, and I won’t be waiting around for you at the end. But if you do…”

She trailed off, but her eyes didn’t weaken. She was not a woman who would ever weaken. He knew she was speaking the truth, and he still wasn’t ruling out that hex, either. 

Minerva had been right that Albus would have wanted this. Love was his thing. Had been his thing. He would have told Remus to trust in other people, as he had told Lyall and Hope Lupin back when he had first allowed Remus to attend Hogwarts and to have a chance at a normal young wizard’s life.

‘Trust in us,’ he’d told Remus’ parents. ‘I know it must have been difficult to protect your son so far, and you will have to protect him many more times, but please trust in me and my teachers to protect him too. In time he will need to protect himself, and you will need to help him trust others to keep his secrets.’

Remus had always thought these words were meant for his parent’s ears alone, and that the tiny ten-year-old boy lurking behind the door for a last glimpse of the famous wizard was not meant to have heard. But perhaps that had not been the case. Perhaps Dumbledore had always meant him to hear them, and to remember then in times like this. 

Perhaps he was always meant to be allowed to love.

He stepped forward, put his arms around Tonks’ body, and then stepped back. She looked down to her muddy black boots and turned to go, certain that this was him leaving.

“Didn’t Mad-Eye Moody tell you not to put your wand in your back pocket?” Remus said, holding her wand aloft. “Better wizards than you have lost a buttock, you know.”

His impression of Mad-Eyes voice had been rubbish, he knew, but it was enough to make her lift her face again and he even thought he saw a tiny smile.

Remus leant forwards and kissed her.

This was what kissing should feel like, he thought. Previous kisses had all been tinged with uncertainty, with a gnawing feeling in his stomach that what he was doing was somehow wrong.

This kiss was accompanied with a soaring feeling in his chest, and a tingle in his fingers where they stroked around her neck. Tonks’ wand fell to the floor, and her body squished into his.

His hands were running through her hair now, and unnoticed by either of them her hair was turning from a mousey shade of brown to the most vivid of pinks. Her hands were on his back, circling and stroking lower and lower, pulling him down towards the bench she had been sat on before.

“Huh-hum!”

They pulled away at the exact same moment. Tonks reached for her wand, scrabbling at her back pocket. Remus grabbed his own from under his cloak, spun, and pointed it in the direction of the noise. Behind him, Tonks swiped hers up from the floor where Remus had dropped it and fell flat onto her face.

“You’d think you two were a pair of naughty students,” said the voice of Minerva McGonagall. “Ten points from Gryffindor, Lupin, and ten from Hufflepuff Miss Tonks, for being out of bounds and after curfew. And thanks be to Merlin that I’m not a Death Eater given that performance there with your wand.”

She reached down to help Tonks up.

“I came down to ask to speak with you both before you left the castle for tonight. I can see I had better be quick, as you two clearly have something else to be getting on with. For what it’s worth from an old witch, I approve.”

For a moment Minerva McGonagall looked as if she wanted to give Remus a hug. For a shorter moment, Remus considered hugging her himself. She had known what he was from before he arrived at Hogwarts and had never treated him differently for it which he had greatly appreciated. She had never cut him any slack on homework even the day after a full moon, even.

He’d asked her why, as an adult, sometime in the first war when they’d been on a mission together. ‘Because you aren’t any different, not in your core nature’ she’d answered, in her briskest of voices which meant both ‘that’s enough, Lupin’ and ‘I sincerely mean this’ at the same time. 

And she’d gone above and beyond after Sirius died.

So for all of that, her approval did mean rather a lot to Remus. Despite the fact that, as his old Transfiguration teacher and Head of House, he did feel rather a lot like a naughty student that shouldn’t have been kissing in the Herbology courtyard right now.

And he could tell from the way Tonks was shuffling her toes in the dirt behind him that she felt exactly the same.

“Now come along, we had best speak inside. I don’t think anyone is out here besides you two, but you can never be too cautious. Mad-Eye is waiting in my office.”

She turned, and began to stalk back up the steps into the castle. Remus made to follow her, paused, and quickly grabbed Tonks’ hand in his own before he could change his mind. It was a cold hand, after being outside past midnight, but came with a feeling of confidence attached. 

They followed Minerva along the familiar corridors, on a long, winding route through the castle. Remus felt weirdly on show, holding Tonks’ hand. Most of the students had gone back to their common rooms and dormitories (Flitwick had stopped Minerva to say that all the Ravenclaws were back in bed, but Remus thought it was a bit ambitious to say in bed, they’d all be talking in the common room!), but staff and Order members were still about. There were several Aurors and other Ministry people, who’d come in with the minister, and of course the ghosts. All the people and spirits they met stared at the small group, the Headmistress battle-worn, sad but still standing proud, and the two behind. Tonks and Remus, tatty, dirty, slightly bloodstained, and happier than anyone had a right to be that night.

Remus realised Minerva wasn’t leading them to her office, but rather the Headmaster’s. She gave the password, Dumbledore’s password, to the gargoyles with a sad sigh. Remus and Tonks followed her upstairs, to find Mad-Eye, Arthur, Molly and Hagrid standing there already.

“Congratulations, Minerva,” said Remus. “Are you the Headmistress now?”

“It’ll need confirming by the Board of Governors, but it seems that way Remus. I have to say, it’s not something I anticipated happening right now. I don’t know if I’m ready for this.”

Remus had never heard doubt in the voice of his former Head of House before. He’d always regarded Minerva, and Albus, as people who knew what they were doing. They were infallible and dependable, they would always be able to give him advice and to support him. Now, Albus was dead, and Minerva seemed lost.

“You’re going to do a fantastic job,” he said. “You were always my favourite teacher. The students are lucky to have you.”

“Absolutely,” said Arthur.

“If you ever need someone to talk to, I’ll be here,” said Molly.

“An’ me, Professor,” said Hagrid, dabbing his eyes with a wet and dirty handkerchief. “Me ’n’ all the staff. Yer the best one fer the job.”

“Nobody better,” said Mad-Eye. “Although you’d be best to get a new Defence Professor in straight away, someone who really knows their stuff, and start classes immediately for those who want them.”

“Thank you, all of you,” said Minerva. “Your confidence in me is appreciated at this tough time.”

She turned away, busying herself with pouring glasses of something for everyone. From his position closest to the door, Remus saw her wipe her tears discreetly. Albus had been a close friend of hers, he knew. She’d be finding this harder than any of them, perhaps.

Minerva raised her wand and the glasses flew to each of them. “To Albus,” she said, and drank. The rest of them echoed her and drank too.

There wasn’t a dry eye in the place.

“It looks as though congratulations are in order somewhere else,” said Arthur, breaking the silence and gesturing at Remus’ hand. Remus looked down. Tonks’ hand was still entwined with his. 

“I suppose so,” he said.  
“Oh Remus!” exclaimed Molly, dashing across the room to squash him in a hug. It was slightly suffocating. People didn’t generally hug him like this. “I’m so pleased for you both, so happy!” She released him, and wrapped herself around Tonks instead. Arthur and Mad-Eye lined up to shake his hand, followed by Hagrid who nearly lifted him off the ground. This was more than he’d been touched by other people in a day in years.

Minerva was last in the line of people congratulating him and Tonks. She gave him a slight hug too. Her usual formality may have already disappeared that night with the events on the Astronomy Tower, but this was another completely new experience for Remus. 

“I said this is what Albus would have wanted,” she whispered to him. “I’ve always been rooting for you personally. I’m glad you’ve let yourself be loved.”

That seemed to be what turned on the tears in Remus. If he hadn’t been touched by many people in years, he hadn’t cried in longer. Lily and James had been the last time he’d cried. He hadn’t managed to for Peter, when he thought he’d been dead, or for Sirius either. 

“Nice as this has all been,” said Mad-Eye. “We have business to attend to. The Order is leaderless with Albus gone. We’ll need to appoint someone else, and as this has always been Dumbledore’s show so to speak there’s no process for that. We need to ensure Grimmauld Place is not compromised further. It is likely to be. We may have to move out of Headquarters. Then there’s the school to consider. Although Minerva is more than capable, she may require manpower, yes, Arthur?”

Remus let the conversation wash around him for a moment. He felt as if there was nothing past tonight. There gnawing pain in his chest for Albus, but another feeling competing with it. A warmth that spread from his heart down to his toes, and a tingle in the hand that was still encased neatly in Tonks’. If this was what being in love felt like, he liked it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We finally have them together!!


	23. Reminisce

Twenty Three: Reminiscing

They left Hogwarts together. Minerva had told them to get some sleep. Remus thought that would be unlikely. His body was exhausted, aching and sore from fighting, but his mind was not yet near rest. He suspected Minerva would be up for some time, too. The Headmistress was sitting in Albus’ old chair as they left, staring up at the portrait of Albus Dumbledore on the wall with a drink in her hand. She was still wearing her ripped robes from the battle, and her hair was half-out of its bun. She looked more tired than Remus had ever seen her.

Tonks had offered for him to come to her place, and he had agreed. He had rationalised this as not wanting for her to be alone on a night like this. If he was being honest with himself, he didn’t want to be alone either.

She offered him a cup of tea, which he accepted, and they sat side-by-side on the lime green sofa. Remus was sure one of the cushions snapped at him slightly when he leant on it. It did seem to have a mouth. He moved that one to one side, just to be safe. He’d been in a wizarding furnishings shop once, and more than one of the things he’d seen there had been very much capable of biting an unwary visitor. His mug was pink, bearing a cheery slogan. The tea tasted good. It was the first thing he’d eaten or drunk for hours.

That fact was given away by a growl in his stomach.

“We should get some food,” said Tonks.

Remus nodded. It felt so wrong sitting talking about food, so soon afterwards. As if they weren't giving Albus proper respect.

Dumbledore had been second only to Greyback in influencing the shape of his childhood, and the Headmaster had changed it for the better. He should be feeling as though he couldn’t eat. What was wrong with him?

“Eat,” said Tonks, shoving a cheese sandwich into his hand. “I would have asked you what you fancied, but it’s all I’ve got in.”

“Thanks,” he said, accepting it. 

They ate in silence. The sandwich was not great. The bread was a bit dry, and the cheese slightly rubbery, and there was no butter. Remus wasn’t particularly bothered. It was food.

He was trying to line up his next moves. They’d kissed in the courtyard at Hogwarts, and before that she’d given him an ultimatum. Now they were sitting eating bad sandwiches together on her utterly horrific sofa. And they’d not discussed the discussion they’d had. Discussed a discussion? Absurd turn of phrase, but he couldn’t think of anything better. 

Should he bring it up? Or had kissing her meant that he’d said he wanted her, or had it been left ambiguous? Did he need to actually say something?

Was she expecting something else? Fucking hell. How long had it even been since he’d done that? Five years? Before he’d taught at Hogwarts, at any rate. Part of him wished he’d gone along with Anna, it would have given him some practice at least. He instantly felt terrible for thinking that, Anna was his friend not a practice run. 

Shit. This was going to be really embarrassing if he couldn’t remember what to do. She’d definitely dump him then. A werewolf, and terrible in bed.

Maybe Anna had been right. Maybe he had been trying to avoid hurting himself, just as much as he had tried to avoid hurting Tonks.

It was once he’d been thinking along this vein for a while that he realised he hadn’t considered whether this was what he wanted. Every other woman he’d kissed he’d ran away from soon after. Of all the mental options he was laying out, turning her down was not featuring. Should it be?

Tonks was watching him closely, the last piece of her sandwich in her hand. Her nails were painted purple. Her hair was still bright pink, and spiky again, how it had been the very first time he saw her. And it had been pink the day he’d realised he was in love with her. She was still wearing her clothes from the battle, a t-shirt and jeans. The jeans were ripped at both knees, but Remus couldn’t remember if they had been like that before the fighting. She had a small cut by one ear. He wanted to reach up and stroke it, although that would most likely hurt as it was clearly fresh.

“Do you remember the time we went to Knockturn Alley and you stopped that Death Eater from hexing me?” he asked. “That was the day I first loved you. You were so quick, taking both Death Eaters down quickly, covering up the scene to make sure no shoppers could report back, checking I was alright, and then you tripped over your own feet and cut your head open.”

Why was he saying that, now?

“I prefer to only remember the heroic bits,” she said, “and not the bit where I was a liability.”

“Don’t we all,” muttered Remus. “I’ve been a liability more than once too.”

She was very close to him. He could hear her breathing. 

“Remus?” she asked. Her eyes were blue, and they were watching him. Her hands, holding her yellow and black striped coffee mug, were smaller than he’d noticed before. There was a touch of purple paint on her nails. “Did you say just a moment ago that you loved me?”

He looked at his mug. It was the most pink mug he’d ever seen. Everything in this room was so bright. Like her.

“I did. And I can leave now if that’s what you’d prefer.”

“Remus. I love you too. I’ve loved you for almost two years. The last thing I’d want for you to do is leave. You’ve been pushing me away for so long, and now you’re not, and, well, you’re not leaving now.”

“I’ve loved you for almost two years, too. But…”

She interrupted him. “Please don’t do another repeat of all your reasons for running away. I won’t ever listen. And I don’t think you even believe them yourself any more, not now.”

Remus didn’t know if he believed in his reasons either. He was poor, but did that matter? Plenty of people lived without money. He was too proud to take her money, but she had a job and wouldn’t be struggling to eat with or without him around.

He was older than her. Maybe that didn’t matter either. It wasn’t by that much, not when you consider that Albus had been over 100 years old at his death and he could have continued for longer if not for being murdered. They could have a lot of years together if they survived this war.

The biggest reason was still the danger. He was dangerous and no amount of clever thinking could get him around that one. But if he transformed at the full moon well away from Tonks, and made sure that she was never near him, could it work? Maybe he could try to get hold of the Wolfsbane again? They’d never be able to have children. He couldn’t risk that. Maybe she didn’t want them anyway. 

He had to make her understand that.

“We can never have children. I… I couldn’t live with myself if I passed on my condition.”

“I want you, children or no children.”“You don’t understand. We absolutely can’t. I’ve looked it up, there’s no precedent for a werewolf and a normal witch having children, we don’t know what could happen, they could be like me! I couldn’t do that to you, or the child. And I don’t want you to try and fix me. I said before that I can’t be fixed, but also it’s not your responsibility to. I get that some women are attracted to the broken man thing, but I firmly don’t believe in a witch needing to come along and be responsible for sorting him out so that they can live happily ever after. That’s not how it’ll be.”

“Remus, I just want you.”

She really was very pretty. He’d not noticed how pretty until he’d given himself permission to. Pretty and very talented at most things, funny, loyal, hardworking, brave…

He reached over and took one of her tiny hands in his own. 

“You might well regret it.” Some last part of him still felt as though it should be trying to dissuade her from whatever this was. A very small part, and it wasn’t putting in very much effort.  
“I’ve regretted men before,” she said with a grin. “It’s better to try than not to.”

Their mouths met in their fourth kiss, and this time it felt more right than it ever had before. Her mouth fitted in with his perfectly. He moved towards her until their bodies were touching. His hands went onto her back, and hers onto his, and there was the faint sound of a mug smashing on the wooden floor. He hoped it was the pink one. 

She pushed him down onto the sofa, half with her body and half with the force of the kiss. He flipped her over, so she was on her back and he was on top of her, kissing all the time. Seizing the moment, and feeling bold, he reached under her t-shirt and felt round her back for the clasp of her bra, ignoring the slight noise she made when it unclipped. In retaliation, almost, she stuck a hand down his trousers and onto the bare skin of his arse. Her hand was warm.

“Are you sure you want this?” he asked her.

“Just get on with it, Lupin,” she replied. 

It was all the encouragement he needed. With a pull, he took off her t-shirt and then his own shirt, the buttons almost escaping from him. He unzipped her jeans slowly, sliding them down her thighs. She took care of his trousers, and soon they were both abandoned on the floor, his brown corduroy dumped on top of her blue denim and forgotten about.

Afterwards, he rolled himself away to be beside her. They both lay for a moment, curled around the other, not talking. It was cosy and warm, and felt right. 

After a few minutes, Remus began to become more aware of their bodies. Hers was perfect, soft curves and a small soft belly, clear skin and basically just perfect. His was long, stringy, and scarred. For a second he doubted himself. Their bodies were so different. He reminded himself that didn’t matter, that she loved him and he loved her and he had no intention of messing this one up.

“I’ve never done this before,” he said.

“You’ve never had sex?” she said, incredulous. “Never?”

“Not that.” He felt himself blushing, probably a shade of red similar to that of a tomato. “I’ve done that before. Bad choice of words. Maybe bad timing. Probably the wrong time and wrong words. I’ve never been in love, I mean.”

“Oh. Sorry.” It was now her turn to blush. “I don’t think I have either. I thought I was with a Ravenclaw boy when I was in sixth year, but I’m fairly sure that was just a really big crush now. When I compare it to this, I mean.”

“And you’ve had sex before too, I assume? Sorry, I don’t know why I asked that. It was inappropriate. Please don’t answer if you don’t want to.”

“I did ask you. S’only fair. But yes, me and that Ravenclaw. And two others after, during Auror training. And that one Muggle. I was curious, I guess. I don’t really mind you asking. Best to be upfront. Isn’t it?”

“Less than me,” he said. 

“Really? Oh Merlin’s saggy left testicle, that was even ruder I think. I suspect I’ve massively insulted you just by the tone of my voice there.”

Remus couldn’t help but laugh slightly. He’d always had Tonks down as an incredibly confident woman, very self-assured. She was perhaps not.

“I guess you’re not too offended?” she ventured.

“No. I’d always assumed I didn’t look like the type of man who had a lot of sex, and I’m going to take this as confirmation.”

“I dunno,” she said, giving him an appraising look. He’d never had someone look at him quite like that when he was naked before. He quite liked it. “Sexy professor thing going on. Some women go for that.”

“Some women like you?” That was possibly pushing it again, Remus thought, but maybe not too much. He’d never had this type of conversation before. He didn’t have the first clue how to do it. He was probably going to screw it up, and she’d run away screaming into the hills never to be seen by him again. Or to be seen awkwardly avoiding him at Order meetings.

Wait, no. He was in her flat. She’d chuck him out, and probably not even remember to chuck his clothes after him.

“Maybe I do,” she said, and Remus felt a wave of relief at not screwing it up.

“I tried out meaningless sex after the last war,” he said, unsure as he spoke why he was admitting that. He’d never admitted that to anyone before, and barely acknowledged that period of his life himself. “It didn’t work for what I was trying it for. I’m not some kind of womaniser. I like women. You know, like them as in respect them and think they are of value to society. I wasn’t trying to use women as a tool to make me feel better. Well, not as objects, but as willing participants, they all got what they wanted out of it. Anyway, one of them was a man. But that doesn’t make it much better, does it?”

“Shit,” she said. Her look had turned from one of playfulness and desire to one of distant sorrow. Great, he thought to himself. If you’d not screwed it up before, you have now by going all sad and depressive on her. What else was he going to admit to? The suicide attempt, the drink, the ridiculous risks he’d taken with his own personal safety?

“I think it’s time I go,” he said, pulling away from her and rooting around on the floor for his underwear. 

“No, don’t,” she said, putting a hand on his arm to stop him. Those tiny hands had some surprising strength. “I thought we were clear that this was a ‘baggage and all’ scenario? I know enough about you already to know that there’s nothing you could say that would scare me away right now. Well, except for admitting to a snake-face tattoo on your arm.”

“You’re in no danger of that,” he said. “I’d have to see even more of Severus Snape.”

She laughed. “Fuck no. And Greyback.”

“Greyback doesn’t scare me,” said Remus, lying through his teeth. The werewolf scared him more than Lord Voldemort himself. Remus Lupin was nothing to Voldemort, and so Voldemort would likely kill him with a single curse. Greyback hated him, and would go to extraordinary lengths to hurt him and those around him.

“Liar,” said Tonks. “I’m scared, you know. We all are. Even McGonagall. Thought I’d never see her looking even a bit worried in her life.”

“Can we please not talk about Minerva while we’re naked?”

“But Greyback and Snape were fine. Interesting. Let’s see what else works for you, shall we?” With the biggest grin on her face, she shifted out the cuddle and lowered her face down his body.


	24. Tea and Toast

Despite wanting to remain in his bubble in Tonks’ flat forever, there was a war going on outside it and eventually, Remus had to leave. So did Tonks. She needed to be at work. He needed to go back to his pack.

They had however managed two days of hiding away together. Tonks had owled the Ministry the day after Dumbledore’s death to tell them she needed the day off. They’d told her to take two. They’d joked it was the first compassionate thing either of them had ever seen the Ministry do, although it may have only been because Kingsley Shacklebolt had been the one to send the reply owl. Remus contacted Anna and explained the situation; she replied to say she was happy to make sure the pack ticked over until he was able to get back to them.

It was possibly the best few days of Remus’ life. They discussed the war, of course. They went over the battle and Albus’ death more times than they could count, taking it in turns to comfort each other and reassure each other that they couldn’t have done anything more. Just as he was, she always blamed herself if something went wrong. Remus had assumed that was a purely Gryffindor trait. Maybe it was her loyalty. Once you’d won it, she’d always want to be there for you. He loved that about her.

Despite the sadnesses they both more than occasionally lapsed into, there was also much happiness. They had sex more times than Remus bothered to count. He was aching everywhere, but he wouldn’t have wanted it any other way. They spent much of the time they weren't shagging each other just curled up, sometimes with clothes and sometimes without, getting used to the feel of the other in their arms. It was a closeness Remus had never experienced before.

But come 8.30am, three mornings after Albus Dumbledore died, he was preparing to leave. Tonks was dashing around the flat in her work robes. She was required in just before nine, and had started getting ready about five minutes before. Remus felt slightly guilty. She’d tried to start getting ready half an hour before that, but he’d distracted her. He was standing up in the kitchen, buttering her some toast by way of apology for making her late.

“Ooh, thanks!” she said, grabbing a slice with one hand and his bum with the other. “I’ll have to keep you around, I reckon. Great toast, and great in bed.”

“I try,” he said. He thought that was the correct way to react. “I’d best be off. When can I see you again?”

She paused from her toast to waggle her tongue at him. “You sound like a bad one-night stand. And you were at the very least a fantastic three-night and two-day-stand, and at best the love of my life. You can see me again whenever you like.”

“Sirius would tell you you’d give me a big head, keep going on about how good I am in bed.”

“You do have a big head! Sorry. Not helpful. I’ll stick to insulting your lovemaking abilities, then, better?”

“Much,” Remus said. “I’m going to need to spend a few days with the pack. Maybe a week. There’s a full moon in a couple of days, and it works best if I’m around for the days before and after.”

He’d not explained much about the pack and it’s life to her. For some reason, he felt he wanted to keep these two parts of his life separate, at least for now. She’d been concerned about his safety, he’d asked her to trust him.

“Alright,” she said. “Tell you what. You can take me on a proper date as soon after the full moon as you think you can leave the pack. Romance and all that shite. Owl me, or something.”

With a last kiss, he’d left Tonks’ flat before he made her any later. In the doorway, he'd stopped for a moment. She was now standing in front of the mirror over the fireplace, face scrunched up, changing her hair colour and style repeatedly to decide what to go with for work. He smiled. He loved her, and nothing had yet gone horribly wrong or exploded.

Unbidden, a memory of the time Peter and Sirius had decided to brew a love potion and it had exploded in their dorm bathroom came to mind. That had been an utter disaster. The other boys in the dorm had kept quiet about it while the potion had been going well, but when explosions and mess had come into it one of them had ratted them out to McGonagall and Sirius and Peter had been given a weeks worth of detentions. She’d made them copy out the ingredients and brewing instructions for that potion over and over. 

The best bit had been that the potion had actually been effective, and James and Remus had been made to keep the two of them separate to prevent them from snogging the other one’s face off. James had been all for letting them at each other, but McGonagall had promised to put both of them in detention too if they didn’t keep Sirius and Peter apart. It had been a hellish few days of forcibly restraining Peter into a spare dormitory before the potion had worn off.

He’d have to tell Tonks that story sometime. She’d like it.

For now, he needed to get back to his werewolves. As he arrived, everything seemed calm at the huge house. Although it was officially called Twelve Trees House, someone had started calling it Wolf House and the name had stuck. Their life was organised now. Everyone had a place to sleep, either a room of their own if they preferred or sharing with one or two others. There was a cooking rota, and a cleaning one too, thanks to some of the older pack members who preferred not to live in chaos. Remus had pushed for the cooking rota. He was a big fan of everyone eating together. It made them feel more linked as a group.

Ottoline came running out to greet him. She’d obviously noticed him arrive, and squashed him in a huge hug. Where had all the hugging come from lately?

“Remus! You’re alright! We heard about the stuff at the school, William and Sam went into the village to get supplies and heard the news, Anna said she’d heard from you and you were alright but I didn’t want to believe it until I’d seen you!”

“I’m absolutely fine, don’t worry about me. Has everything been alright here?”

“Oh, of course it has. Anna’s done great. I’ve been helping a bit. A couple of the boys got into an argument over the cleaning rota, but Anna and Sam sorted that and everyone’s great.” She turned to him and grabbed his arm. “So, anyway! How’s your girlfriend?! I want to know everything, and so do the others, although some of them are too busy being manly to admit they want the goss.”

“Goss?” Remus asked.

“Y’know, gossip. Low-down. The deal. The info.”

“There’s not a lot to say. I don’t know if she’s even my girlfriend, we didn’t discuss it.”

“Ha! Didn’t have time to discuss it, I bet!”

“Ottoline, my friend and former teacher died two days ago. Your former headmaster, too.”

“Oh, yes. Sorry.”

“But you’re right that we didn’t have time to discuss it.”

“Remus! Oh my days! I’ve got to go tell Genie! And William, and Sam!”

She ran off again, through the doors of the house and up the staircase. He heard the clattering of her feet on the wooden floor of the first floor landing as he walked into the house himself. Opposite him was Anna, leaning against the doorframe that lead into the house’s kitchen. She had a slight grin on her face, although it didn’t spread to her eyes.

“Remus, I’m so glad you’re back. How are you, after Dumbledore?” She sounded genuinely happy, and concerned.

“I’m bearing up. Ottoline says things are okay here. How are you?” It felt very formal, what he’d said.

“She’s been fabulous. Yes. Everything’s gone well. There was a slight argument, she may have said, but it was dealt with quickly. We’ve not had any contact from Greyback or his lot.”

“Thank you Anna,” he said. “For everything you’ve been doing for us. For me. For the pack.”

“It’s what I need to do,” she said. “It’s exactly what you’d have done in my place.”

“Professor!” shouted William. Ottoline had found him, then. “Ottoline says you’ve just got back from seeing your girlfriend.”

“I have,” said Remus. 

“This is so weird,” said William. “My old professor is my friend, and now I’m going to ask him to tell me all the details about his girlfriend. Spill, Professor.”

Anna disappeared. Remus guessed she didn’t want to hear this. He told the story to William, with fewer details than he had been hoping for, and then to Ottoline and Eugenia. Sam said he wasn’t interested in hearing it told a third time, which Remus was thankful for. 

“So, Remus? William and I have got something to ask you,” said Ottoline.

“If it’s for her hand in marriage, you can think again, young man,” said Remus. William looked terrified. Everyone else burst into laughter.

“Oh, what, was that a joke professor? Do you make jokes now?” asked William. “Merlin’s saggy bollocks, I could have died there, you looked so threatening! Fucking hell, mate.”

“Do you call me mate now?” asked Remus in return, to more laughter. He was quite enjoying this new-found ability to make jokes. 

They were a funny bunch, him and his friends, Remus thought. All so different, but tied together by the common thread of their lycanthropy. None of them would have lasted five minutes in a room together without it. Cool, clever Slytherin Ottoline would never have looked twice at William, funny and loyal and two years younger, at school. She’d have been off with a pureblooded boyfriend, making a good marriage, while William would probably have faffed around for a few years in a job at the Ministry or somewhere, working hard but never taking it completely seriously. Eugenia would have married Warrington, and Remus’ brief experience with that man suggested that even this was going to be better for her than that. Anna would probably have never left her children. Sam hadn’t experienced normal wizarding life, without them he would have led a life similar to Mike’s maybe, or if he’d not been bitten Remus thought he would have made a good Quidditch player.

And then Remus himself. Undoubtably smart, but so incredibly unable to believe in himself. Really, he was lucky this bunch of werewolves had believed in him. And even more lucky that Tonks had. For the first time since Halloween 1981, Remus was genuinely no longer lonely.

He cared about these people, every last one. And Mike, wherever he was. 

And there, in the wood-panelled kitchen in the bright sunlight, he desperately wanted to hug each and every one of them. Life was so short, he thought, and he needed to say something.

“Joking aside,” he said. “I just wanted to say how much I appreciate all of you.”

“Bit serious,” said William. “Y’know, I like you too Professor, but…”

“William!” said Ottoline. “He’s trying to have a heartfelt moment here!”

“What’s one of them when it’s at home?” asked William. Ottoline elbowed him, and Remus could only describe the noise William made next as ‘shrieking like a teenaged girl’.

“What did you want to ask me?” asked Remus, feeling that perhaps the others hadn’t reached the stage of fuzzy love for everyone that he had.

“Oh, yeah, forgot,” said William. “Ottoline and I reckon we should make some other places where werewolves can go and escape Greyback. We’ve had a few arrive while you weren’t here, and we can’t fit all that many more of us in here. Or so Anna says. I was shit at Arithmancy, I haven’t worked it all out myself.”

“And, also importantly,” said Ottoline, with the air of someone who’d planned out exactly what they were going to say, “the more of us here the harder it is going to be to remain undetected. You did a fabulous job with all the protective enchantments, Remus, but with more people coming and going then there’s a chance we’ll be traced to at least the general area and Greyback may try setting people in the area to try and pick us off as we leave or enter. It’s better to keep us into smaller groups, I reckon. And the more people you get together, the more chance of clashing personalities who cause fights.”

“Ottoline nearly fought someone yesterday,” said Eugenia.

“But I didn’t,” said Ottoline, “and that’s what matters there.”

“If you say so,” said her sister.

“They were being a twat,” said William, jumping in to support his girlfriend.

“That’s enough,” said Sam. “Focus, children.”

“I think it’s a really good idea,” said Remus. “Have you got anywhere in mind?”

“Sam’s got a place in Lancashire he’s going to let us have, and a few others have got houses they’ll lend us too. And Mike says if it comes to it we can borrow his place, but he muttered something about it being an absolute last resort.”

“Mike?” asked Remus.

“Oh yeah, did we not say, Mike’s back!” Ottoline crossed to the heavy, oak kitchen door and pushed through it, screaming “Mike! MIKE! Oi Mike! Remus is back!”

There was the sound of stomping on the stairs opposite, and Mike came into view. The Scot was a funny sight against the staircase; the sweeping lines of the highly polished wood and clearly expensive carpet contrasting with the angular man wearing scruffier clothes than even Remus. Mike had a partially-scabbed cut slashed diagonally across his face from above his ear to the chin, and a black eye. The sleeve of his jacket was ripped up the seam. He was grinding.

“Couldn’t a come and found me, could you?” he asked Ottoline, and slightly unexpectedly hugged Remus. So much hugging and touching lately.

Anna made everyone tea and toast, and it was like the early days of the pack again. Everyone sat around the kitchen table, catching up, laughing and working on the safe houses plan, and when some of the other werewolves came to investigate all the noise they moved the reunion to the sitting room.

Remus spent the day on a squishy red sofa, drink in hand, laughing and planning. The house which had felt so small and trapping just a week before was suddenly like a home again. He was happy.

Mike, it turned out, had managed to escape the warehouse without too much difficulty, and had herded maybe twenty werewolves with him. They’d got away from Greyback and his group of werewolves, but they had no clear idea where they were headed. Mike had ended up taking them north with him, and they’d managed to commandeer a boat from a farmer in the Highlands of Scotland and had gone across to Remus’ island. Mike had left them there after the full moon, and traveled back to the mainland to try and find Remus and the others. 

It turned out that Mike was the reason unwanted visitors being able to find the Werewolf House had been on Ottoline’s mind. He’d known Ottoline and Eugenia’s names, stalked them by looking up old birth announcements in the Daily Prophet until the announcement of the birth of Ottoline Hortensia Wilhelmina Fawley was announced, and followed her parents’ names to their manor house where her brother had been only too willing to give out the location of his sisters’ hideout. He’d then stood on the edge of the property for a few days, as he couldn’t pass within the protective enchantments, and waiting until someone came out at which point he’d harangued them to let him in.

Ottoline’s biggest concern about this story, it had to be said, was that everyone now knew her ‘utterly ridiculous’ middle names. Security was a close second.

Just as Remus was intending to go to bed, William sidled up to him. 

“Professor?” he said, with a grin Remus did not at all like the look of.

“Yes?”

“Ages ago I promised I’d come and give you the sex talk when you got with your girl. After you embarrassed me. So, what do you want to know?”

Remus groaned. “Absolutely nothing. Do not tell me anything.”


	25. As Long As We Both Shall Live

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is just fluff :)

A week after the death of Dumbledore, Remus found himself basking in the sunlight beside a Scottish lake. He’d always loved the outdoors. And he’d never worked out why that always surprised people about him. He was well aware that as a teenager he’d had a tiny bit of a reputation as a bookworm, but in his adult years he hadn’t and people were still surprised that he enjoyed the outdoors somehow. 

This was proved by Tonks’ reaction to his choice of location.

“I didn’t think you’d be much into the outdoors!” she said, almost right on cue when they’d arrived.

“Why do people always say that?” he asked her. He kept his tone playful, rather than accusing. He knew he hadn’t always been the nicest to her, he didn’t want to come across pushy.

“Because, I dunno, you’re Remus and Sirius said you were into books at school. I’ve never heard you talk about liking the outdoors. You complained of the cold on so many watch duties.”

“I don’t like sitting around in the cold, no. Nobody likes that.”

“I think the real reason people always say things like that is because you don’t tell people much about yourself,” she said. “You tell a lot of stories about things you and your friends got up to at school, but they’re mostly about what Sirius and James and Peter did. Sirius told the ones about you. And these little facts, your likes and dislikes and hopes and dreams, you don’t tell anyone.”

“I used to tell Sirius, and James, and Peter. They went, and I think I lost the habit of sharing.”

That was the best assessment he had of what had happened, anyway. She was right. He didn’t tell people much about himself. He’d found it easier that way. Sharing with her, well, it was hard. Even now, a large part of his brain was shouting at him to shut up, to stop talking and to run away. He ignored it. Years of hiding away and avoiding becoming close to people had not made him happy, and he was going to give this being happy thing a go. Even if part of him still felt like he didn’t deserve it. 

“So what do we do here?” she asked. She’d noticed him disappearing into his thought process and decided to snap him out of it. This woman was perceptive. 

“We look at the view. We walk. We find a nice pub and share a glass of beer or something.”

“I snog you senseless under that tree?”

He looked at her, and the tree, and back to her. Her face was playful, eyes glistening in the sunshine. He did want to kiss her, but he also had big plans for today and if he didn’t get moving now he was likely to back out.

“Maybe after the walking part,” he said. “If we go round the other side of this lake, there’s a wizarding tavern over there. We could get lunch.”

“How do you know this area so well?” she asked as they set off. Remus was leading them down a footpath that skimmed the waters edge. 

“Used to come here on holiday with my parents,” he said. “Mum is, was, a Muggle. We needed Muggle friendly holidays, so we stayed at a Muggle campsite just over there. Dad didn’t like to be too far from some wizarding civilisation, so me and him could go for meals at the tavern or visit some of the wizarding attractions in the area.”

“We went on a wholly Muggle holiday once,” said Tonks as she navigated around a bush that was straying onto the footpath. “Something of a nostalgia trip for Dad. He’s Muggleborn. Mum hated it. Said it was the worst holiday ever and she Apparated home after two nights. I didn’t think it was so bad. You’d never have got her camping at all.”

“We didn’t have much money,” Remus said. “It was usually camping or nothing.” 

“See, I always wanted to go camping. My Muggle cousins went. Sounded amazing. All that running around, making friends with the other kids on the campsite, getting into adventures, being free.”

“I wasn’t allowed to make friends with the other kids, in case I let something slip.”

He heard her stop on the path behind him and turned around to look at her. She looked startled.

“What is it?” he asked, rushing back to her. “Did something get you? That bush?”

“No,” she said, confused. “It’s just… you. I didn’t realise you weren’t allowed friends as a kid. That’s really sad. I just want to go find tiny Remus and sweep him up and say that everything’s going to be alright.”

“He wouldn’t have believed you,” said Remus. He gave her a hug, in some vague attempt to squash the sadness out of her or maybe just stop her looking at him in that way that pitied him. “Tiny Remus was sure things were not going to be okay. And a lot of the time he was proved correct.”

“Bet he was adorable though.”

“I was. There’s pictures.”

“Do you reckon your dad would show them to me?” she said, pulling out of the hug. There was a small tear on her cheek. Remus reached up to brush it away.

“Not happening,” he said with what he hoped was a reassuring smile.

“Aww, I so want to see tiny Remus,” she said. Her nose wrinkled. “This is a bit ridiculous isn’t it. You’re comforting me because of how rubbish your childhood was.” 

“I accepted it some years ago,” he said. “Most of us with childhood trauma do.” He thought of Sirius, who never really had.

“See,” she said, growing herself a few inches to look him square in the eyes. That was going to take some getting used to. “I don’t think you did. Without wanting to play therapist, I think your childhood of not belonging has led to a whole lot of issues. Some massive inferiority complex for starters, and a real knack for hiding your true self from other people. Essentially you don’t trust anyone else and you don’t think they’ll like you. But you like them, and you want friends. More I think about it, more I think you need a psychologist.”

“Wizards don’t have psychologists,” said Remus, knowing he was dodging her main point. “We prefer to wallow.”

“Maybe they should,” she said. “Dad’s sister is one. She used to give me good advice.”

“Shall we keep walking?” he asked. “I’ve got somewhere I want to show you.”

“Okay,” she said. “But don’t think you’re getting out of this. We’re going to play a game. I know enough about you to know I love you, you’re kind hearted, brave, selfless and even a little bit funny. But I don’t know any of the little things. So you’re going to tell me one happy secret about you, a fact I don’t already know, and I’ll do the same for you. So go, Mr Lupin.”

“Alright,” he said, as they started off again following the path as it curved around the lake and up a slight slope. “My dad taught me at home as a kid, and when I was nine I won a Muggle children's art competition.”

“What did you paint?”

“A landscape of the Irish hills. We were living there at the time. Your turn.”

They played Tonks’ game as they climbed the slope, going higher and higher above the calm lake. They passed one other couple going the other way and traded greetings. Tonks stumbled over tree roots twice. They laughed and joked with one another, and Remus started to feel relaxed. He didn’t want this walk to end. It was like being a normal wizard, on a date with his normal witch, without a war waiting for both of them again at the end of the day.

The trees had grown thicker as they climbed and they lost their view of the lake for a few moments. Remus wondered if he’d remembered his way correctly. The path turned a corner and the trees opened out, revealing a perfect clearing with a truly impressive vista of lake, trees and hills.

“Wow,” Tonks breathed from beside him as she took in the view. “This place is amazing!”

He led her over to a roughly hewn wooden bench placed at the edge of the clearing, so as to give those sitting on it the best possible viewing space. He indicated to her to sit, and took a seat beside her.

“Tonks?” he said.

“Yeah?”

“I don’t have much experience with being someone’s boyfriend, you know. We discussed that before. But I want to tell you again just what being in a relationship with me is going to entail for you.”

“Remus, come on, I know your doom and gloom. Don’t spoil this day. I’m having fun!”

“No, I need to say this now. I need to know you understand. I’m not going to try and persuade you to end this, and I’m not ending things with you. I’ve never loved anyone before, but I don’t doubt I love you. I think losing you now would be worse than never having had you, and that made me feel like I wanted to throw something every time I thought of you and what I was missing out on.

Tonks, I can’t promise you money or anything like that. You’ll probably have to earn most of the money for us, forever. I can’t promise that I’ll be an easy partner. I hate an intrinsic part of myself with a passion equal only to that with which most of us in the Order hate Voldemort and his followers. I will be down a lot of the time. I will try and tear myself apart from time to time, physically and mentally. I won’t be kind to myself, and I won’t always be kind to you either. I’ll apologise every time, and I promise I’ll genuinely mean it, but it will most likely happen.  
I can promise I’ll never hurt you physically, though. I’ll stay as far away from you as I can on a full moon. I’ll protect you from anyone else who’d want to hurt you if you want me to. I’ll also stay well back and let you protect yourself when you don’t want me to. I know you’re not a woman who needs saving.

I won’t want children. I’m not going to be much good for showing off to friends and family. I’m a lot older than you, and I don’t look good. People will likely shun you when they find out about our relationship. Probably not the others in the Order, but your friends from school and work might not want to know you any more. But for what I am, I’m yours. But I need to know you understand my downsides and you can live with this life that I’ll be throwing you into.”

“Remus, what is all of this? You know I love you, and I know everything you just said already. Seriously. You never stop bloody going on about how shit you are, and I never believe you. A lesser witch would have run away screaming by now, I hope you know that. Remus?”

He slipped off the bench onto the grass, fumbling in the pocket of his robes. Even before a full moon, before running down to confront Sirius in the Shrieking Shack three years ago, before his first day at Hogwarts, before any battle, he’d not been this nervous. He thought he might be sick on her boots. That would spoil the moment. Oh Merlin on a broomstick. Was he actually going to do this?

Remus Lupin, werewolf, pulled a ring box out of his pocket, opened it up, and held it out to his normal, non-werewolf, girlfriend. Well, probably girlfriend. They’d never established that. Maybe they should have before he did this.

“Nymphadora Tonks, will you marry me?”

Her answer was a shriek of joy. She half leapt, half fell off the bench and wrapped her arms around him, almost knocking the ring box out of his hand. He grabbed onto it as she kissed him.

“Hang on,” he said, pushing her up so he could get the stone out from under his back. “Don’t you want to try on the ring? If you don’t like it you don’t have to use it, but…”

She’d grabbed the ring box from him and was trying on the ring before he had finished his sentence. It fit perfectly. The ring was gold with a central stone of a ruby, circled with smaller white stones.  
“It’s not new,” he said as she held it up to the light. “It was my mothers. Didn’t know my dad had hung onto it all these years, asked on an off chance really. Couldn’t afford one new.”

“It’s perfect,” she said. “Bit Gryffindor, but I love it. I can’t wait to tell Mum and Dad! When were you thinking of getting married? I don’t want a big do. Unless you do? We can have a big do if you want one?”

“Actually,” he said, with a nervous smile, “I was thinking about right now. I’ve arranged for an officiant, and we can get some witnesses from the tavern, or Floo for your parents, or whatever you want. I can cancel it, though?”

“You’re something else, you know that?” she shrieked, playfully hitting him on the arm possibly slightly harder than she intended to. “You go from refusing to have anything to do with me to setting up a wedding in a week and a half! I have no idea how to react to this!” He thought she was saying something else, but her voice had turned into a slightly strangled scream and he couldn’t make out the individual words.

“It’s okay,” he said, “I’ll cancel it.”

“No, you absolute idiot! You massive buffoon! I want to marry you now, I’m just saying that the way you act could be seen as confusing to an outside observer.”

Perhaps she had a point.

“I wouldn’t argue with me too much,” he said. “I might run away again. I still only sometimes believe I deserve this, deserve you.”

“Of course you do,” she said, taking his hand. “Everyone deserves happiness, even if they’re a bit too hairy at certain times of the month.”

“Even if they’re a big bad Auror who turns into a screechy girl at the slightest hint of romance.”

They walked down the hill together. At the bottom, the officiant Remus had booked was just arriving. He dashed into the tavern to find them a pair of witnesses to sign the register, while Tonks dealt with some of the more aesthetic concerns. She found some flowers to make a bouquet (“I was never one to fantasise about weddings, but I do want flowers,” she said), persuaded a wizard she’d found taking photographs of his family by the lake to take a wedding photo (“I want at least one photo to remember this day by,” she said) and spent no small amount of time changing the length and colour of her hair in front of a mirror (“it’s a big decision, when you’ve got my skills!”). Finally, they were ready.

They stood at the end of a makeshift aisle through some bushes together. It was not a traditional wedding, nor were they a traditional couple, so they had decided to walk down together. She plucked a flower from her bouquet and fixed it to his jacket with a wave of her wand.

“Ready?” she asked him. “Last chance to run.”

“I wouldn’t want to for a minute,” he said. “Are you sure you’re happy to do it like this?”

“Yes,” she said. “Weddings are a bit of a farce, really. All those fancy clothes are uncomfortable. You’re permanently tatty, and to stick you in a fancy suit just wouldn’t be right.”

“I can scrub up if I want to!” he said, but his moment of outrage was over when he saw her almost doubled-up laughing it his cross face.

“Let’s do this,” she said, when she’d calmed down.

They turned and walked together down the little path between the bushes. The officiant was at the end waiting, and said a few words. Remus wasn’t really listening. He was looking at his wife, taking in every inch of her face and watching her smile as she listened to their ceremony.

The vows were short, promising to love each other and support each other. As they exchanged rings, again that Remus had been given by his father, he felt as though someone had cast a Hover Charm on him. He was practically floating with happiness. This wasn’t something he ever thought he would do, but he was so incredibly happy that he had.

Tonks dashed into the tavern afterwards, to see if they had a room for the night. She’d decided it was only fitting. Remus followed her slowly, twisting his new wedding ring around his finger. It felt odd, although not uncomfortable. The wizard who’d taken the photograph offered to buy him a drink, and he was sucked into a crowd of well-wishers plying him with mead and Firewhisky before long. Tonks joined the crowd shortly after, waving a room key happily to him as she came in.

She looked in her element. With her hair pink and short, which she’d decided on after twenty other styles had been tried, and her old denim jacket, she looked like no other bride he’d ever seen. But then he looked like no other groom. Except for the look of sheer happiness on her face, lighting her eyes and magnifying her smile, which he could feel was mirrored on his own. They might not be normal, but they were right together. 

A very small part of him was niggling away saying he shouldn’t have done this. The larger part, and the sight of his wife clutching his arm and smiling, pushed the thoughts of that away. He should have done this ages ago. She had the right to this, even if he didn’t, and he’d be damned if he’d let his wife be unhappy.

His wife. Oh Merlin. He, Remus John Lupin, had a wife. A wife!

“To Mr and Mrs Lupin!” shouted the barman, passing out the drinks. 

“Fuck off is it!” shouted Tonks. “I might have agreed to marry the man, but I’m not taking his name! The happy couple, Mr and Mrs Tonks!”

Remus laughed, and so did the rest of the crowd around the bar.  
“Mr Lupin and Mrs Tonks,” he said, “and call it quits.”

“To the happy couple!” tried the barman again, and this time everyone cheered and drank.


	26. Marriage

Married life was a strange beast. 

It wasn’t how Remus had expected. James and Lily had spent at least three months basking in the joy of just being married after their wedding, despite the war that was surrounding them. Perhaps Remus had expected that for himself. 

The reality for Remus was that there was another war, he and his wife were still members of the Order of the Phoenix, and there was a lot to do. The newlyweds barely got a moments peace, all in all. 

Tonks was required to spend a lot of her time at the Ministry. It was clear something was not right there, with more and more of the Ministry workers acting strangely. Including some of the department heads. Soon, Tonks was working double-duty, first doing her own job as given by her superiors and secondly investigating those acting strangely, which included several of those superiors. She was arriving home every evening after ten o’clock, regularly going back in before eight the next morning.

Remus wasn’t exactly slacking, either. He wasn’t living with the other werewolves any more, but was regularly visiting. He helped Ottoline and William set up their series of safe-houses across the country for the werewolves who didn’t wish to join Greyback. Under disguise, he met with Mike who had remained underground with the werewolves who remained with Greyback and took reports of their activities. They seemed to be simply acting out the plans of Voldemort, lurking by Muggle settlements at the full moon and trying to kill as many as they could. Remus had procured some wolfsbane, and was planning to pass it to Mike each full moon who would then attempt to keep as many Muggles away as he could.

Along with Anna and Eugenia, he tried to track down newly-bitten werewolves and get them out of Greyback’s reach before he could recruit them. This was a tricky task. It relied heavily on intelligence from Mike about where werewolf packs were likely to be, and then a quick swoop in as soon as the moon had gone down. They would pull anyone injured out of there, before the Ministry or Greyback could find them, and try to persuade them to stay in one of Ottoline and William’s safe houses. Most of the time, it worked. The new werewolves were generally fearful of Voldemort, and of Greyback whom rumours were flying around about, and they were all too happy to be looked after by someone who wasn’t associated with either of them.

None of it was easy. The Ministry had issued yet more anti-werewolf propaganda, including a reward of fifty Galleons for any witch or wizard who provided information that led to the capture of a werewolf. Tonks had found that funny, and along with Fred and George had done a whole skit around arresting him at the last Order meeting. Remus had laughed along with them. He had to; the other option was disappearing into a corner with a bottle of Firewhisky. Molly had pulled him aside and hugged him, saying she would march down to the Ministry personally to speak on his behalf if he was arrested. It wouldn’t help. Remus had thanked her anyway. He did appreciate the sentiment.

There were rumours coming out of the Ministry that the next step would be fines for anyone associating with werewolves. 

All of this was Voldemort’s fault, well, and Greyback’s. Most of the werewolves that would be arrested under this would be innocent.

Remus had been around checking on all his werewolf acquaintances after this announcement, to make sure they were safe. He didn’t know how many he could keep safe, from the competing threats of Greyback and of the Ministry, but he had to help where he could.

This meant very little time for Remus and Tonks. They stole time in half an hour chunks on their worst days, a couple of hours together on a good one. Some nights, they didn’t get chance to stay in the same bed. One of them would crash elsewhere, or get a middle-of-the-night callout just as the other was coming in.

To say it wasn’t how Remus had expected it was an understatement.

It was as they were preparing to head over towards The Burrow, the night they planned to collect Harry from his aunt and uncle’s house, that Remus realised this mission was likely to be the most time they’d had together in a week. He told Tonks this.

“Such a romantic date,” she said, looking for her broomstick. “Really know how to make a woman feel loved, you. Oh, I give up! Accio Broomstick!”

“Is this, is it all alright?” asked Remus, his palms sweating.

“Of course it is, you fool,” she said, reaching over and kissing him. Unfortunately her broomstick was still in her hand, and she whacked him round the back of his head with it. “We got married in a war. We’ll have a honeymoon after that. Now shut up with your panicking, and come over here. We’ve got at least forty-five minutes before we need to leave, and that gives us enough time to…”

Remus did not need to hear any more, and he was on top of her before her sentence was finished.

Much more than forty-five minutes after Tonks’ proposition, they were on their way to the meeting point at The Burrow. Tonks was once again searching for something without the use of magic, this time the Floo powder. Remus was getting nervous.

“Accio Floo powder!” shouted Tonks eventually, and the pot sailed towards her with powder flying everywhere. Remus bit his tongue. The rest of the night needed to go more smoothly than this. He took a handful of the powder and shouted his destination into the fireplace.

At the other end, he was evicted by the fireplace onto the Weasley’s rug. He swallowed the wave of nausea caused by the travel, and took the abuse from Mad-Eye Moody for being late as he thoroughly deserved it. Everyone else involved in the plan was already present; Hermione, Ron, Bill and Fleur, Fred and George, Arthur, Kingsley, Mad-Eye, Mungungus, and outside in the garden sat on the grass, Hagrid. Molly was floating in the background, and a very cross Ginny. Aside from Mad-Eye’s ranting about following process and the importance of good timekeeping, which was aimed at Remus far more than Tonks even though it was essentially her fault, and Mundungus’ grousing about not wanting to be there, the room had almost a party atmosphere.

“We’re going to rescue the Chosen One, the Chosen One, the Chosen One! We’re going to rescue the Chosen One, to kill old Voldemort!” the twins were singing, to an irritating tune that Remus was sure he’d heard before and couldn’t quite place.

“Quiet!” yelled Mad-Eye eventually, immediately silencing everyone in the room. “Is everyone here clear on the plan, as agreed at the meeting two days ago?” There was a room full of nods. “Good. Nobody must act outside of plan. The most important thing here is that we are disciplined and we stick to the plan.”

“I thought constant vigilance was the most important thing,” muttered Tonks to Remus, who stifled a laugh.

Nobody did stick to the plan. Mundungus fled, and Remus was certain he watched Mad-Eye fall to his death shortly after. Bill and Fleur got too caught up in fighting, and strayed too far north, running into a back-up group of Death Eaters waiting for them. Remus lost sight of the others early on. George, his Harry lookalike, was amazing, though. Remus mostly concentrated on flying, dodging Death Eaters and spells, while George took on their end of the fighting. He was holding up marvellously, sitting backwards the broom back-to-back with Remus to get a better vantage point from which to work spells. He was shooting them off at an impressive speed.

“Fuckin’ hell, there’s loads of them!” shouted George. “Reducto!” The Death Eater at the front of the pack pursuing them swerved to narrowly avoid his broom being blasted out from under them and crashed into the steeple of a church, disappearing from view. There were four more onto them, though. “Impedimentia! Depulso! Remus, is it ethical to Vanish Death Eaters? Transfigure them?”

“Do what you have to!” shouted Remus, spiralling to avoid a rush of flames. “Kill them for all I care, just don't let them kill us!”

“Didn’t have you down as the ruthless type! Incendio!! Stupefy! Stupefy! Furnunculus! Remus, looks like we’ve got the greasy one on our tail!” 

Remus checked behind him at George’s last shout. He was right. In the back row of their opponents was one Severus Snape, killer of Dumbledore and Voldemort’s loyal servant.

“Get him first,” advised Remus. He swerved the broom to avoid a bright purple spell, crouching low over the handle to encourage it faster, and dropped into a dive to avoid a Killing Curse. On the back, George was throwing curses backwards into the Death Eaters, hitting a couple more.

“Sectumsempra!” shouted Snape, and Remus, busy avoiding a curse from Antonin Dolohov, couldn’t dodge Snape’s. George screamed, a horrible blood-curdling scream, and flopped to the side. Remus caught him, causing the broom to swing almost 180 degrees around to face the Death Eaters, and battled to right himself, George and the broom. A bloodstain spread across Remus’ shoulders as he supported George on the broom, dangerously quickly in his opinion.

“George!” shouted Remus, as he fought to control the broom and the Weasley. “Hold on, yes? Can you grab my robes? Anything! Stay awake!”

Remus took his other hand off the broom handle and willed the broom to behave. Without looking, he fired the first spells to come into his head over the shoulder as his other hand supported George. He’d lost track of which way they were travelling. He’d have to hope he could curse enough of them to get a chance to look at the compass on the broom handle and swoop down to see where he was. Fucking hell. George was slipping again. He pulled him upright a little bit more, ignoring the blood pouring off him, and released another volley of curses over his shoulder. A scream suggested at least one of them had hit the mark.

“They’ve got the right one!” shouted one of the Death Eaters, and Remus and George were suddenly alone in the air.

“Fucking hell,” said Remus. “Hang on in there, George. Shit.”

He’d run out of swear words by the time they arrived at their appointed safe house, very nearly late for their Portkey. 

Remus lost the next few hours to all intents and purposes. If you’d asked him afterwards what he’d done, he could have said that he’d gone back to The Burrow, mildly threatened Harry to ascertain he wasn’t an imposter, drank some Firewhisky in commemoration of Mad-Eye, and gone to search for the body. He could just about recall who was there, but the details were fuzzy. The room he’d been in at The Burrow, where he and Bill had gone to retrieve the body, conversations he’d had were all a blur.

He should have looked after George better, he kept thinking. 

And afterwards, all he could do was Apparate back to Tonks’ flat, well their flat now, open the door and fall asleep on the carpet.

Tonks prodded him awake the next morning. She looked as if she’d been up all night. Her hair, blonde and chin length, was rough and her eyes were slightly bloodshot with crying. Mad-Eye had been close to her. She’d confided in him when she’d had trouble with Auror training, and he’d given her extra help. He never did that. He’d been the one to pick her out for the Order, assuring Dumbledore she was the brightest new Auror for years. They had been friends, and trusted one another, as much as Mad-Eye had trusted anyone.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there to talk to you,” said Remus, propping himself up at the table. He had the remains of a carpet-mark on his face from his choice of sleeping location.

“You had to go and look for him,” she replied. “Someone did.”

“I should have stayed,” he said. “I should have remembered you were close. You’re my wife. It shouldn’t be left to Molly Weasley to comfort my wife when I could do it.”

“We’re both learning how to do this marriage shit,” she said. “I’m off to bed. Coming?” They fell into the bed together, and clung to each other as if they never wanted to break apart. Remus breathed in the smell of her and relaxed for the first time since they’d left the flat together the night before.

And if Remus was honest, things didn’t improve any more over the next few weeks. The Ministry threw out more anti-werewolf laws. Greyback and his pack had been attacking at random, not always waiting for the full moon. Remus’ work was cut out tracking down the victims and helping them to safety. More and more of them, especially the Muggles, were not surviving. There had been an attack on one of William and Ottoline’s safe houses for werewolves. Luckily, William had been there, and the house mostly full of qualified wizard werewolves, and he had managed to fight the Death Eaters for long enough for the occupants to Apparate to safety. Remus had needed to strengthen the secrecy and protective charms on the rest of the safe houses after that.

Everyone knew Remus was a werewolf, even the Ministry, by now. His status as an unregistered werewolf, which was illegal, was soon going to cause problems. Especially for Tonks. Some of the others in the Auror department had heard of her entanglement with him and were making her life more difficult. Two of them cornered her one day and threatened to hold her hostage until Remus registered. She’d more than held her own in the ensuing fight, and the two Aurors had been disciplined, but Remus was worried.

“I’ll leave, if that’s what you want?” he’d offered that evening, when they were having a rare dinner together. His eyes stayed on the red mark on her wrist where one of them had grabbed her the whole time he spoke.

“Do me a favour, and never suggest that again,” she’d said, grimly. “I’m not scared of those two idiots. Can’t let the dickheads win.”

He’d been unconvinced by her breezy manner. Maybe she wasn’t scared, but he was scared for her. Kingsley promised to keep an eye on the situation, but he was rarely in the Auror Headquarters these days.

And so it was with an overwhelming feeling of worry and panic that he came into their bedroom the afternoon after Bill and Fleur’s wedding, when Tonks had summoned him in with the words “Remus? Erm, I’ve got something to tell you.”

The feeling grew when she told him to sit down. Had she been attacked again? He flicked his eyes over her to look for obvious injuries, and felt a wave of relief when there weren’t any. She’d been fired from her job as an Auror on the spot, when they were still at The Burrow, due to her connection with him and with the Order, so it couldn’t be related to her work. What was wrong?

She was happy. That was a good sign. She’d been so happy the last few weeks. He had been growing less and less convinced by this whole marriage, as he was putting her in danger, but she was having the time of her life if the look on her face was anything to go by. It was something special, the knowledge that he was making the woman he loved feel like this. On bad days, when nothing was going in their favour, like yesterday, it was the only thing keeping him around. 

He never ever wanted to hurt her.

“Remus. Oh, Merlin’s beard, I don’t know how to say this. I’m pregnant.”

“You’re… you’re what?”

“Pregnant. Going to have a baby. Bun in the oven. Egg under the dragon. You know. Baby. In here.” She pointed to her stomach.

Remus’ heart dropped. A baby. Shit. They’d been careful. He thought they’d been careful. He didn’t want this baby. It was going to be a monster and it would be all his fault. The baby was going to have a shit father.

“Tonks, I…”

“I looked it up, and I can’t find anything that says it’s going to be a werewolf. There are a handful of occasions of werewolf males and witches, well, mating, for lack of a better word, and the births are recorded as ‘no known traces of lycanthropy’. It’s not exactly the plan, is it, but I think it will work out.”

“Tonks, you don’t…”

“There’s no guarantees with anything, of course, and there’s the war as well. I’ll stay out of it, though, I promise. I wouldn’t do anything to endanger our child.”

She was not the danger. He was. Werewolf. Half-breed. Dangerous.

“Tonks, I can’t do this.”

“What?”

“I can’t be a father. You don’t understand.”

“Don’t you dare try that one on me again.” The tentatively happy look on her face was gone, and replaced with anger.

She had every right to be angry. This was his fault.

“It will be like me, I’m sure of it.”

“You’re the fucking king of facts, Remus Lupin, and checking stuff in books to make sure you’ve got it right. I’ve read every fucking book on this subject and all of them suggest you are wrong.”

“And the books weren’t written by werewolves. They’re not accurate!”

He’d ruined her life. He just knew it. She’d end up like his mum, lonely and poor and forever looking at her child with heartbreak in her eyes.

“I dunno. One said ‘werewolves are known for their obstinate, argumentative and sometimes aggressive behaviour outside of the full moon’ and I’d say you’re definitely ticking off numbers one and two there.”

He had to get away. Give her a chance.

“I should never have married you. I can’t do this.”

“And what exactly do you propose I do now, then? We’ve made a baby, Remus. Well, technically, a foetus. I’m keeping it. It’s going to be a person. It’s time to deal with that fact.”

Remus stood up from their bed, automatically smoothing down the purple striped coverlet as he did so. He took the three steps to the bedroom door, and opened it. Tonks was still on the edge of the bed, the corner of the duvet in her hand. She looked so impossibly sad, with tears welling in her grey-blue eyes. The exact shade that he’d told her was his favourite. He left the room, and the crack of his Apparition out of the flat could be heard from the living room.

He didn’t know where he was going. He knew he had to leave. Fuck, he’d never wanted to hurt her, but this baby was the thing that would do exactly that when it turned out to be a monster just like him.

“Voldemort can take me now,” said Remus, feeling a strong urge to throw his wand into the nearby dustbin. “Be better for everyone.”

A wizard in dark robes and a Death Eater’s mask was standing across the alleyway from him. Looked like the day had just got worse.


	27. The Leaky Cauldron

Thinking quickly, he ducked into a recessed doorway and collapsed back into the shadows. If the Muggle who lived here had opened the door now, he thought, this would go badly. A man, tired and greying with tatty robes, standing there with his back to the wall panting heavily and pointing a thin stick of wood out at the alleyway. He had no idea how he’d explain that one without attracting a whole lot of attention and likely either screaming or him being hit. He’d had a good run lately without anyone hitting him. He wanted to keep it that way.

Remus stayed put for a couple of minutes. The Death Eater hadn’t approached. Odd. Normally, he would have expected them to chase him down. Perhaps they were new and hadn’t quite got the hang of Death Eater protocol yet. Or maybe they weren’t here for him. 

Carefully, he inched closer to the edge of the alcove. The Death Eater was still there, although he had moved down to stand at the end of the alleyway. Trying his best to look casual and completely unremarkable, Remus sauntered out of the doorway and down the alley the opposite way. Once he’d got to the main street without being cursed, he dared a look over his shoulder. The Death Eater was following him, although at a distance.

He was perhaps following him, and he perhaps wasn’t. This was nothing like any way he had seen a Death Eater operate before.

Logically, the man couldn’t have been following Remus. He’d Apparated into the alleyway seconds before the Death Eater had appeared, and it wasn’t a location associated with him or the Order or anyone in it. It was an alleyway between two rows of terraces in a firmly Muggle part of London, with no Order members’ or Death Eater’s houses for at least a mile either way that Remus knew of. He’d gone there for exactly that reason.

It was three days later when Remus managed to shake off the Death Eater that was tailing him. As far as he could tell, it had been the same person the whole time, and he still hadn’t worked out why. 

He had been cautious while being followed and hadn’t gone anywhere near his final destination: number 12, Grimmauld Place. He’d started off trying to get there as he thought it would be a good place to hide. It was at the beginning of his second day out of Tonks’ flat that it occurred to him Harry, Ron and Hermione might have gone there. They had some kind of task left by Dumbledore, and they were only teenagers. Perhaps he could be of some use there. 

Merlin knew he had to be of use somewhere.

They’d probably really appreciate a fully-qualified wizard who wasn’t just trying to get them to stop what they were doing like Molly was. It must have been important. Albus wouldn’t have asked them to do it if it wasn’t, for all the man’s faults. It wasn’t that Remus didn’t trust Harry, just that he was aware of the boy’s skills and his limitations. Hermione was clever, and would likely see them through fine, but Remus thought his skills would be of use too.

Tonks would be absolutely fine with the baby. If he didn’t help Harry, then the baby would have nothing to grow up into except more war, and as the child of a monster the kid would have a terrible life under this regime.

This was really the logical and best thing to do.

Remus walked up to the big black front door of number 12, Grimmauld Place, and opened the door.

Within two hours, he was back out on the street, fuming.

Harry didn’t understand. He had always had such a sheltered view of werewolves. The only people that had expressed a negative view on them in front of him were people Harry had already hated, like Malfoy or Snape. He assumed it was just the view of a few prejudiced people. If he’d spoken to the vast majority of the wizarding population, Remus knew a lot of them would have said the exact same things. 

Monster. Half-breed. Dangerous. Round them up. Better off dead.

He’d heard all of that a thousand times, and he’d heard worse. Harry didn’t know what Remus had condemned his kid to.

And he thought he should go back there. What did he even know? Remus would only make it worse.

Remus stomped out of the quiet, mainly Muggle neighbourhood of Grimmauld Place and towards central London. Grimmauld Place was out, and it was getting late, but he had a bit of money to his name. He could rent a room in the Leaky Cauldron, get a drink and a meal, and then go up to his old Yorkshire cottage in the morning. He didn’t trust Apparating right now. Not the way he was feeling.

It was a long walk, but Remus entertained himself listing all of the reasons Harry had been wrong.

Truth be told, he was running out a bit by the time he opened the door of the Leaky Cauldron, and had been repeating himself for at least ten minutes. But it left him feeling slightly calmer. 

“Tom, have you got a room for tonight?” he asked the barman, approaching the bar. He’d always liked this pub. He’d met his first real wizards of the same age in this very bar, when his parents had taken him for a Butterbeer after his school shopping. He’d stayed with Sirius, Peter and James here in the summer holidays once, and convinced the extra barman Tom had hired to sell them strong spirits. They’d passed out all in the same room, not one of them had any experience with drinking, and Sirius had thrown up all over the only bathroom.

“Yes,” said Tom. “Number eight alright?”

“Fine,” said Remus. “And a Firewhisky, and whatever the vegetarian option on the menu is.”

The meal was some kind of casserole, but perfectly edible with dumplings and bread on the side. Remus picked out the carrots as he ate. Carrots were rabbit food. He ordered another drink. And then another.

He tried not to think of much, as whatever he though of made him want to smash the glass in his hand. He’d been getting better at not thinking when he had been doing it a lot in the orchard at Werewolf House, but he was out of practice. Maybe the trees helped, and the soft clouds he could watch floating around. Here there were people, and noises kept interrupting his not-thinking. Remus Lupin was not generally a violent man, but he could have punched the man who knocked into him just as he was getting somewhere and his mind was finally going blank.

“What’s wrong with the carrots?” asked the waitress, as she collected his plate and disturbed him again. Remus bit back an urge to be rude to her. It wasn’t her fault.

“For rabbits,” he said, through his teeth.

“Not a fan of parsnips, myself,” she said. “Weird things, aren’t they. And cabbage. I refuse to eat anything that doesn't taste of anything at all.”

Remus ignored her. It was rude in of itself to do that. She was just doing her job.

He got himself a fourth drink. This one he nursed slowly, knowing that funds were not limitless.

Harry had been wrong, that much he was certain of. Maybe he didn’t want Remus along for whatever it was he was doing. That was fine. Remus didn’t have a problem with that. The task was important, and although Remus didn’t see why Albus would entrust something so supposedly crucial to three school-aged wizards, that didn’t mean they couldn’t do it alone. It would have been easier with Remus along too, but there we are.

What Harry didn’t need to have done was to be so bloody insulting.

He’d essentially said that Remus didn’t care about Tonks and the baby.

And he did care, especially about Tonks. It might have been a mistake to marry her, given what he’d put her through so far in their short marriage, and what he’d caused now, but he did love her. She was by far the only woman for him. He’d never found anyone like her before, and he likely never would again. 

She’d never forgive him for this.

But she didn’t need to. She was better off without him. By far. And so was the child. He’d fucked it up enough for the child just by being its father. It didn’t need the menacing spectre of a werewolf dad to actually be near it to cause it quite enough problems for one lifetime. Remus would be better off going and continuing fighting this war and hoping he could improve things enough so that the poor baby’s life wasn’t going to be quite so shitty.

And, besides, a dead werewolf dad was a hell of a lot less threatening than an alive one. Dead werewolves can’t bite.

His dad had said werewolves were best off dead. Could never be redeemed. Lyall Lupin had always denied still believing that.

Remus finished his drink. The bar was quiet, as he suspected it often was these days. A small group of what looked like Hogwarts age children sat with their parents at the table next to his. All three children looked worried, and the parents downright terrified. Attendance at Hogwarts was compulsory, now. These parents were going to have to send their kids off to a school likely in the control of Voldemort himself.

Four wizards sat playing cards in a booth, occasionally shouting out for more drink. They didn’t look scared. Perhaps they’d had enough alcohol not to be. They didn’t look like Death Eaters, either, although Remus had learnt long ago not to stereotype. James had been briefly convinced women couldn’t possible be idiotic enough to become Death Eaters. Sirius had tried to explain to him about his cousin Bellatrix, but it took until James had come up against her in a duel for him to really appreciate quite how lethal that woman in particular could be. He’d conceded the point that night.

He didn’t want to think about his friends.

Looking around the bar, Remus realised he was the only person in there who was alone. The daily warnings of Death Eater activity and not to travel alone had tailed off since Voldemort had taken the Ministry. That had only served to make most people more scared. Those not in the Order or with a reliable source at the Ministry would have almost no information about what was going on. Lack of information made people panic.

Perhaps he looked suspicious, being alone. He stood up to order a fifth drink. The smallest girl in the family at the next table flinched when Remus stood up. See, they were scared of him. Perhaps she thought he was a Death Eater. Perhaps she knew him for what he was, which was dangerous too.

Alone. Dangerous. Nasty horrible half-breed, who’d ruined lives.

He drank. He’d go up to his room after this one. He should have had enough alcohol by now to pass out and not to dream.

Fuck all of this, he thought. Fuck all of life and it’s endless stupidity. 

What had he done to deserve all of this?

He knew it wasn’t that logical, or the part of him that wasn’t getting steadily drunker did. His dad had been the one to cause this, technically, and even then he had said something offensive but Fenrir Greyback hadn’t had to rise to the bait. It wasn’t Remus’ fault, not in truth, but it definitely felt like he was being punished.

He thought of Tonks again, and the life he’d subjected her to. The child would likely be a werewolf. 

He thought of his mother, and the look she'd wear on her face when she opened the cellar door after one of his transformations. It would be sadness, fear, a tiny bit of loathing, and pain. That would be on Tonks’ face, too, when she had to tend to her child after a full moon.

He remembered the look on his mothers face when they had to move again, because Remus had once again almost revealed his condition or someone had nearly worked it out. That was a look of despair, and loneliness. Tonks would be lonely.

Remus remembered the sound of his mother’s voice when she’d been told he was a werewolf. He had been four, he hadn’t understood what a werewolf was or what it meant. He’d just felt the pain in his side where Greyback had sunk his teeth. But his mother had expressed that pain in her voice, the worst and most horrible noise Remus had ever heard. It was the sound of a mother who was feeling her child’s future disappear.

His child would never have a proper future, if they were a werewolf.

What the fuck had he done?

He had always thought Time Turners were more trouble than they were worth, with the exception of that time one had been used to save Sirius, but right now he would have given anything for one to go back and never have started all of this with Tonks.

His child deserved more than him as a father.

Remus considered his options. Hiding was one. He could go back to the werewolves, try again with Greyback’s pack under a false name. Greyback might manage to kill him this time. Might be a good thing. He could walk back into the pack and throw his arms open wide and insult the Death Eater werewolf, and that would solve everyone’s fucking problems.

“Hey, you alright?” said the waitress, now collecting his empty glasses. “Just you look, a bit, I dunno, sad?”

Sad didn’t begin to cover it, Remus thought.

“I’m fine,” he said, standing up. He was impressively steady after the five double-measures. “Thank you for the food, it was excellent. And the drinks. I’m going to my room now.”

He wandered off, ignoring the second flinch of the girl on the next table. A polite werewolf, without fail. 

Wolf in sheeps clothing, was the term Muggles used. 

He couldn’t honestly believe that being polite, and trying to do good in the world, could make up for being a part-time monster.

Remus slumped onto the nearest bed in his room, clothes on and on top of the covers. With a jolt, he realised it was the same room that he’d stayed in with his friends all those years ago. Summer before sixth year, he thought, before the shit had all really hit the Hippogriff.

He’d slept in the other bed, before, with Sirius stinking it out next to him. Peter had crashed on the floor. James had been in this bed. The grey duvet cover and off-white pillows looked like they were the same ones they had been then. The red patterned carpet certainly was the same. Remus vividly remembered trying to charm the sick out of it once they’d shoved Sirius into the bathroom, so they didn’t get charged more money.

James.

Harry had said that James would never have left him, not if he’d had the choice. Harry was right about that. James would have been an excellent father. Possibly slightly reckless, in some ways, like he’d probably have given Harry the Invisibility Cloak and encouraged him to use the Marauders Map, but excellent. 

Not for the first time, Remus wished he’d died instead of James.

He was going to be a shit father.

Was it better to be a shit father from a distance than a shit father in person?

James would have been so good.

The alcohol was hitting Remus hard, now. Thoughts were taking longer to form in his head. They were much more difficult to think. If he stared at the carpet, the pattern moved.

James would have been a good father, though. Harry would have been happy.

Could his child be happy with him?

Remus had been happy at times, even as a werewolf. He’d had friends at Hogwarts. James, Sirius, Peter, some of the girls.

Peter. Fucking Peter.

Peter should have died instead of James. Remus’ alcohol-slowed brain couldn’t come up with an insult bad enough to throw at Peter. Fuckbludger. That was a shit one. Ottoline would not be proud of that one.

Cockquaffle.

What was with all the Quidditch references?

James would have liked the Quidditch references. Harry was a good flier, like James.

James and Lily should have lived.

Harry deserved parents. Every child deserved parents.

Maybe just not him as a parent.

He was safe 27 nights of the month, though. Maybe he could make this world into one that tolerated werewolves. After punching Voldemort in the face, that is. Did Voldemort have a face, anymore, really?

No. Do not think of Voldemort’s face.

Maybe he could be a good parent.

Maybe he should at least try.

How bad could it go?

Well. Very badly. Tonks would never let him near the child on a full moon, though. Tonks was clever, and brave, and funny, and nice, and loyal, and lovely. She would help him.

Maybe he couldn’t be a good parent, not as a werewolf, but he could try.

Fuck, he was a dick. Harry was right. He shouldn’t have left her and the child. The child deserved more than that. Tonks deserved more than that. 

James would have whacked him with a Beater’s bat if he’d found out he was abandoning a kid. 

What was with all the Quidditch references?

He had to go home. Talk to Tonks. Beg, plead, to be forgiven.

Remus went to get up, and promptly fell over. The alcohol had well and truly hit, but he’d Apparated drunk before. He span on the spot, but instead of Apparating away he fell over and was sick.

He’d have to charm the smell out of this carpet again. Maybe going home could wait until he’d slept this off.

Good fathers should only get a responsible level of drunk, and should not puke on their own shoes, he thought as he fell into a deep sleep.


	28. An Apology

Incredibly hungover, Remus paid for his room the next morning wincing at the sounds the Sickles made as he put them on the bar. Everything was louder than it needed to be. The lights were on far too bright. He complained to the cleaning witch about that, and she’d given him the strangest look ever.

It was only when he was leaving the Leaky Cauldron that he realised the lights hadn't been on at all.

He walked down Charing Cross Road for a few minutes, hoping to walk off some of the headache and nausea. He had messed Tonks around so many times now. He needed to get this absolutely right. There was no way he could walk back in, stinking of alcohol and vomit, and expect her to forgive him. She would be well within her rights not to, anyway.

Remus desperately wanted to go to someone and ask for advice. He thought briefly of Anna, who would have given him excellent advice, but this was not one for her. It would hurt her feelings far too much. Ottoline would give terrible advice, possibly only beaten by William in unhelpfulness. Mike would give him a beer. Molly would… he had no idea how Molly would react, except that it would likely involve shouting. He didn’t want to find out.

Arthur? Probably not. Molly would find out.

Minerva? She had enough to be dealing with. She didn’t need any more of his fuck-ups to add to the list.

No, this was entirely his fuck-up, and he needed to deal with it alone.

He Apparated first to his cottage, which he had entirely forgotten was full now of werewolves he didn’t know. He’d offered it up as a safe house after he’d moved into Tonks’ flat. That ruined his plans to have a wash and some food. He should have washed at the Leaky Cauldron. 

It was at the point where Remus was about to give in and go and beg for forgiveness while stinking of alcohol that he thought of Kingsley. He was entirely uninterested in gossip, and was likely to let him in for a shower without asking too many questions. 

An hour later, stepping out of Kingsley’s house clean and much fresher-smelling, Remus felt better. His stomach was turning over and over, and his hands were shaking, but that was still an improvement on before. There was no more avoiding this. He had to go back. It was the right thing to do, but not the easy one.

“Tonks?” he said, pushing open the flat door. “Tonks, are you here?”

“If that’s you, Remus John Lupin, then fuck right off!” came a shout from the bedroom. 

“Dora!” The last was from the sofa, where Ted Tonks sat with the horrific pink mug Remus remembered from the night of Albus’ death. The Hufflepuff mug had smashed. Remus wished he’d thought to replace it. 

“I don’t think she wants to see you, mate,” he said to Remus. “Not sure I would, in her circumstances.”

“I’ve been an absolute idiot,” said Remus. 

“That you have,” said Ted. “I’ve never seen my daughter like this, and I don’t like it. I promised when she was born to curse any man that hurt her into oblivion. Reckon they’d find oblivion a nice place to be when I was done with them. And I’m a mild-mannered man, Lupin.”

“I deserve it”

“Indeed,” said Ted. “Now I like you, despite what you’ve done to my daughter, and I do think you two fit well together. But if she doesn’t want you back, then I reckon getting out of here sharpish would be the right thing to do for all of our sakes. My Dora can more than defend herself. Get in there.” He indicated the bedroom door with his mug-filled hand. 

“Thank you,” said Remus. He considered adding a sir. James had always called Lily’s father sir. He didn’t think Ted Tonks was the kind of man who’d like that, but right now he was willing to try almost anything that would help.

“Tonks?” he said again at the door of the bedroom.

“Go away!” she shouted. “And Dad, I’ll fucking swear at him if I want to!”

She was lying on the bed, with her mum sat on the edge of it. She had been crying, probably for some time. Her face was red and puffy, with splotches on her cheeks. She was wearing the same clothes she had been wearing when he had left last night, and wouldn’t look at him.

“I’m going to give you two some privacy,” said Andromeda Tonks, standing up and leaving the room. “Dora, darling, your dad will be just out here. I’m going to get you in some shopping.”

“Fuck off,” said Tonks to Remus again, although this time more quietly. Remus felt that it was more likely so that her father didn’t hear than because she was beginning to forgive him.

“I’m sorry,” he began, but she cut him off.

“Sorry? All of what you did, and sorry is what cuts it? No it fucking does not! You have spent two years ignoring me, then you do a whole big romantic gesture and get married and get me pregnant, then you fuck off and you come back and say sorry! Sort your fucking life out!”

“Dora!” Ted Tonks sounded more resigned this time.

“Shut up, Dad! I’m a fucking adult!”

“Tonks, I’ve been an absolute arse. A fucking idiot. A twat. A cockquaffle. Whatever rude word you can think of to call me, I’ve been it. I went to see Harry yesterday. I offered to go and join him on whatever he’s doing for Albus.” Remus felt a full disclosure at this point was best. He never wanted to hide anything from her again. 

“He turned me down. He said I should be here with you. And I was so angry at the time, but he was right. A seventeen-year-old put me in my place last night, and I’m so very grateful. If you’ll let me back in your life, I’m only going to leave again if a whole horde of Death Eaters come to take me away.”

She sniffed, but her face was definitely softening.

“Look, I understand if you don’t want me anywhere near you. If you don’t, that’s fine. I love you. I want what will make you happy. I’ll get a job, a Muggle job if I have to, send you money for the kid. As much as I can get you. I’ll sell my cottage. If it’s better I’ll go away entirely and you can pretend I don’t exist. But I’d like to stay and go through this with you.”

“How do I know you won’t do it again?”

“I’ll swear an Unbreakable Vow if you want.”

“Mum would like that. She’s not a fan of yours right now.” Tonks was no longer shouting, and looked slightly closer to forgiveness.

“It’s not about what anyone else wants but you.”

He fiddled around with the hem of his sleeve. This had become an annoying habit. Some of his sleeves were unravelling because of it. He resolved to stop.

“Sit down,” she said. He did so, perching on the edge of her bed about as far away as it was possible to be from her. He didn’t want to invade her space or assume anything. “I love you too. Fuck knows everything would be easier if I didn’t, which is what i think you’ve been saying all along, but I do. I want you to stay. I’m not ruling out an Unbreakable Vow, but I have to be able to trust you if this is going to work. I need you.”

“I think I might need you, too.”

“Dad’s going on the run,” said Tonks. “They’re going to force all the Muggleborns to register, and he’s refusing. He’s leaving today.”

“That’s the right choice, I think,” said Remus. “I’m sorry, though.”

“You never registered, did you? As a werewolf.” 

“No,” said Remus. “They tried to make me after my teaching year, when it all came out, but they’ve never tracked me down.” 

“So Dad has a chance?”

“I think so.”

“I’d say I’ve got an excellent chance,” said Ted, at the doorway.

“Dad! How long have you been listening?!”

“Long enough, so that I knew whether I needed to make good on my threat to curse that husband of yours,” he said.

“You don’t,” said Tonks and Remus together.

“Good,” he said. “Let’s keep it that way, Lupin. I may be going on the run, but I’ll be back to protect my daughter in an instant.”

“And I keep telling you I’m an Auror, I don’t need protecting.”

“Every parent wants to protect their child,” said Ted. “You’ll learn that soon enough.” He shut the door.

Remus thought he had an inkling of that feeling already “Can I?” he asked, holding out his hand towards her stomach.

“Can’t feel anything yet,” she said. “It’s tiny.” But she guided his hand to the right point anyway, lower down than he’d expected. “Mum says she’ll be about here. And tiny. Really tiny. Will be at about the four month mark that I start to show anything. Hopefully I’ll stop puking before then.”

“Can I brew you an anti-nausea potion?”

“Thank you for the offer, but I’ve heard about your brewing. Sirius told me the story of the time you blew up the dungeons. I’d rather take Mum’s. No offence.”

“None taken. There's more than one story about me causing explosions in the dungeons.”

He relaxed back onto the bed with her. She was right, there was nothing to feel in her belly. But he liked the feeling of having a hand there, close to the baby that would soon enough be born. 

Andromeda had been right. The belly did begin to grow when Tonks was around four months pregnant, and by month five it was impressively sized. Andromeda, shocked by how little knowledge Remus had of pregnancy, showed him a wizarding photograph of her at nine months pregnant with Tonks, and he was amazed. She promised to acquire him some books on pregnancy.

The war raged around them, but Remus’ heart was no longer in fighting it. He refused to take on any missions for the Order, instead preferring to stay at home and keep them both safe. Tonks was more than able for the first few months, but as she got bigger she became slower, and would have found it difficult to defend herself in a fight. By her eighth month, she could barely go to the Muggle shop at the end of their street without getting tired.

She hated this. She threw herself around the flat moping about being fat and useless. Remus had some experience with feeling useless, and he tried his best to improve her mood. Even if that meant saying things that made no sense, like that he hoped the war continued after the baby’s birth so she could help fight it again, when really he wanted it all to be over and a safe world for his child to be born into.

Several Order members dropped in, to update them or ask for advice. Kingsley was on the run. He’d tried to stay within the Ministry as a spy, but had used Voldemort’s name and been ambushed by Death Eaters. Nobody could use the name without that, now. Remus had forced himself to stop saying it. He was continuing with tracking known Death Eaters, alongside Bill, Arthur, Fred and George Weasley and a few other Order members. Remus encouraged him to ask Tonks to read through all their data and look for patterns. Having the task and the focus made her happier, at least while she was doing it.

Molly arrived frequently with homemade food and advice on pregnancy. She predicted that the baby would be a boy. She claimed a 99% success rate, but Remus could see no magic or even Muggle medical science in her method. On her third visit, she cornered Remus in the kitchen.

“I just wanted to say,” she said, “I never disliked you, dear. Arthur thinks I may have given that impression. I just wanted you to see how happy you could be with Tonks. So I’m sorry if I made you feel as if I didn’t like you.”

“Apology accepted,” said Remus. “Perhaps less matchmaking, next time?”

“Oh, I think it got the desired effect,” said Molly. “I just love seeing young couples happy together! Reminds me of me and Arthur, when I was pregnant with Bill. There was a war on then, too.”

Remus would not have described himself as young.

“I lost my brothers in that war,” she said. “You knew them, didn’t you?” Remus nodded. “I was pregnant with… Percy? The twins? The twins. George Fabian and Frederick Gideon.”

“They were fantastic, your brothers.”

“Oh, they were. Terrors, as children. Much like Fred and George. I did wonder at times if we were quite right to have named the boys after my brothers… anyway, Remus. Would you like me to bring a cake next time? What kind does Tonks like?”

There were other, less expected arrivals. Remus was in the bath one afternoon when he heard a frantic knocking on the flat door, and the voice of a rather baffled Tonks having opened it. He dried off and dressed quickly, although she didn’t sound distressed or in danger. Just confused.

“And you must be Tonks!” came the voice from the doorway. A woman’s voice. “I’ve heard so much about you! All good. Well, mostly, I think Remus insulted you like once and that’s quite good for him. He’s not the most positive of men, is he? You’ve noticed, haven’t you? He's great, though. Should have seen him actually fight like a Muggle!”

“Ottoline!” came another voice, a man’s. “You’re not even through the door and you’re talking her ear off. Can’t you see she’s pregnant?”

“What’s that got to do with anything?”asked a hassled-sounding Tonks. “As I keep telling my mother, pregnancy is not a disease. I do not need special treatment.”

Ottoline squealed. “Oh the baby! Does it kick? Can I feel it?”

“Ottie, we don’t know her!”

“I would ask what’s going on, but I think I’ve worked it out,” said Remus, walking into the living room and getting a clear sight of the door.

“Care to explain?” said Tonks.

“This is Ottoline Fawley and William Tolliver,” said Remus, waving an arm towards them. “They are werewolves, who I foolishly took with me on that ill-fated mission to Great Yarmouth and who saved my life more than once. Ottoline, William, this is Nymphadora Tonks, my wife, former Auror at the Ministry of Magic before she was sacked by You-Know-Who’s regime and the future mother of my child. She has also saved my life at least once.”

“Sounds like you don’t look after your life much, Professor,” said William.

“My mum would love it if I could do formal introductions like that,” said Ottoline.

“Please, come in,” said Tonks, possibly against her better judgement.

The young werewolves made themselves at home. Ottoline thought the cushion with the snapping teeth was hilarious, at which Tonks gave Remus an ‘I told you so’ look. William enjoyed all the Hufflepuff banners, and the replacement set of mugs Remus had bought by way of apology. He was also amazed by how little of Remus there was in the living spaces. In answer, Remus fetched the set of photographs he’d brought from his cottage.

“I don’t have a lot of things,” he said. “This is my mother and father, and these were my best friends at Hogwarts. And this,” he said, holding out the fourth photograph he’d recently added, “this is Tonks and I the day we got married.”

“Feel honoured,” said Tonks, having levered herself onto the sofa and now unable to get off. “He doesn’t show those to many people.”

“He’s a proper man of mystery,” said Ottoline. “You know, he didn’t tell us his real name even for ages. We all thought he was John. It was only because William was taught by him at Hogwarts that we ever found out.”

“He’s weird,” said Tonks, giving up her attempt to get up. “Remus, you put this baby in here, get me a sandwich.”

“Too much information,” said Ottoline, scrunching her face. “When I got with William, this man gave me a sex education talk! He pretended to be my father for a while to stop a bunch of werewolves attacking me. I do not want to know anything about his sex life.”

“I’ve loved to have seen Remus Lupin explain sex,” said Tonks, laughing. “Bet it was hilarious.”

Remus had always kept his life as a werewolf very separate from the life he led with wizards. For self-preservation, and because he had felt so precariously part of either society. Now, he was almost regretting that decision. 

True, most witches and wizards were not like Tonks, and most werewolves were not like William and Ottoline. But this was nice. The four of them got on as a group. Tonks enjoyed the stories of Remus’ werewolf life, and they enjoyed hearing her take on their relationship. It felt like hours before any of them discussed a topic other than Remus, who by that point was beginning to feel a bit uncomfortable. He’d never sat in a room with so many people saying fond things about him before.

After William and Ottoline left, Remus helped Tonks up and into their bed. They snuggled in together. 

“Is it true you pretended to be Ottoline’s dad to protect her?” Tonks asked.

“Yes,” said Remus. “I don’t think at the time she realised what they were intending to do, but I certainly did.”

“You’re a funny man, Remus Lupin. You go to the ends of the earth to help people, but you expect that they won’t like you.”

“You love me,” he said. He was never fully at ease teasing her. He did feel like one day she would suddenly remember why she hated him.

“I do, more fool me,” she said. “Show me how much. Although I’ve only just got comfy, so you’ll have to do all the moving.”

He was only too happy to oblige. Anything for the woman who had loved him when he’d felt nobody could.


	29. Teddy Remus Lupin

For the few days preceding the birth, Tonks had been in the worst possible mood. The baby had been due a week ago, and she was taking her anger out on the world. Remus thought it was entirely justified; she was huge, unable to sleep or get comfortable and in a great deal of discomfort as well as seeming to need the toilet every half an hour. Really, she was allowed to be this angry.

Not that he would have dared say anything else. 

Breathing wrong near to his wife was likely to result in a massive verbal lashing, and then a teary apology fifteen minutes later. Despite all his many failings in life and in their relationship, Remus felt even he didn’t deserve to be shouted at this often and for so little.

It wasn’t just him. Andromeda was getting the blunt end of Tonk’s anger just as frequently, although in this case the difference was that as her mother she felt able to shout back. The two women were ferocious. Remus now understood exactly why his wife was so formidable. 

It was just one of these afternoons where Tonks and her mother were busy shouting at each other over the washing up, and Remus had escaped the house for a walk around the garden, when everything changed.

Remus was standing by the pond, pondering if his wife would stop being quite so scary when the baby was born or if this was the new normal, when the sounds of shouting came out into the garden. He thought to begin with that they had discovered something he’d done wrong, and come to shout at him (the only thing scarier than Dora shouting at him was both of them shouting at him, he’d have taken a duel with Voldemort over that), but then he realised it was just Andromeda.

“Remus! Remus!” she was shouting. “There’s contractions! Three in twenty minutes! I think the baby is on it’s way!”

He turned, and ran back towards the house.

It turned out that, despite the note of panic in Andromeda’s voice, there was little to do. Babies did not come as quickly as you’d imagine. Remus had read all the pregnancy books, and knew it was likely to be slow, but nothing had prepared him for quite this slow. Tonks refused to allow either of them to go any further than the kitchen to fetch snacks and drinks, or to turn the radio on, so they both sat in silence as she paced the room between contractions. Remus read the birthing manual they’d been leant for the fifth time. Andromeda knitted. She finished off a blanket for the baby and had started a cardigan before anything really began to happen.

“Remus,” said Andromeda after the fifth hour of contractions was almost up. “They’re coming every three minutes now. It’s time to Floo for the midwife.”

Glad of something to do, Remus leapt up to get in contact with the midwife. Generally, a witch in labour would contact St Mungo’s, but it was all more complicated given the state of the wizarding world. It was unlikely an Order of the Phoenix member, pregnant with the baby of another member of the Order and a known werewolf, would get a good reception at the wizarding hospital. As both mother and father were on official wanted lists, Andromeda had done some digging around and found a midwife who was willing to supervise the birth without needing to involve the hospital. If all went well, it would be perfect.

If the birth didn’t go well… Remus had to hope it didn’t.

The midwife arrived half an hour later. By this point, Tonks was pacing up and down the living room slower than ever. Every few minutes, she’d stop and bear down, screaming like she was being attacked. Remus had never heard a noise like it. He’d tried reassuring her and telling her she was doing a good job as the birthing manual had advised him to do, but each time he’d tried she’d sworn at him. He’d given up on that.

“If anything, I said worse to her father when I was giving birth to Nymphadora,” Andromeda told him when they were both in the kitchen well away from Tonks. “Foul mouth, I had, and I never swore in those days. It wasn’t becoming of a nice pure-blood girl from one of the best families to swear. Unfortunately, childbirth has an effect on women. It does hurt, rather.”

And Remus completely believed her. 

The midwife was pleased with Tonks’ progress, and retreated to the kitchen. She claimed witches made better progress when left as alone as possible. Nature needs to do its work, she repeated frequently from her spot by the window. She was a very smily woman, irritatingly so Remus felt, and sat there taking the odd note on a piece of parchment and eating biscuits.

Tonks was not so enamoured with letting nature do its work as the midwife was. Her pacing the room was now closer to stomping. The midwife had tried to make Remus encourage her, despite him telling her that Tonks really didn’t want that. She’d given up when, the second time he’d tried, Tonks released the longest stream of swear words any of them had ever heard. Andromeda had looked as though she’d wanted to tell her daughter off, but thought better of it. Remus was just glad Andromeda had confiscated Tonks’ wand at the onset of labour. He didn’t want to know what hexes she’d have used on him if she’d had access to it.

By the time the midwife had been there for an hour, Tonks was screaming for any pain potions they could give her. 

“This is a good sign,” said the midwife, not moving from her chair. “She’s almost ready to push.”

“How the fuck would you know? Nobody else is feeling all of this! I’m being ripped apart, I’m never doing this again! Remus, I’m going to fucking kill you for doing this to me! Mum, I want my wand back, I’m going to hex his balls off!”

“I’m not giving you your wand,” said Andromeda. 

“Thank you,” said Remus.

“Yes, almost ready to push,” said the midwife, and picked up her quill to scribble on her parchment.

Tonks was by now making animal noises. The midwife also claimed this was a good sign. Tonks began to abuse the midwife for doing nothing to help her. Remus decided now was not the point to remind Tonks that she had wanted a natural birth without too many pain potions and to be left alone.

It all started to happen rather fast. Tonks announced that she needed to push, and the midwife began to prepare an area. Remus was put to work fetching towels and getting a nappy for the baby when they arrived, while the midwife tried to persuade Tonks to remain even slightly still so that pushing would be easier. It wasn’t going to work. Remus felt sure that very few people were capable of persuading Tonks to do anything she didn’t want to do, and the midwife wasn’t one of them. 

Andromeda took over, and managed to talk her daughter into a position on her knees, leaning up against a chair. The midwife hovered in the background, talking Tonks through each push and reminding her to breathe. Remus felt like a spare part, until Andromeda ushered him over and got him kneel beside her, holding her hands as she pushed. With every push she squeezed down.

“This is worse than before,” said Tonks, after a push. She looked him right in the eye. “No more kids.”

“No more kids,” he said. He was still nervous enough about how this one might turn out. He pushed the worry away, though. Now was not the time to be getting himself into a panic about whether he was producing tiny werewolves. Now was a time to be supporting his wife as she did the hard work. “Now we’re going to get this one out of you. You’re doing so well. I really do love you.”

“I love you too, but I also want to hurt you for putting me in this situation. Is that normal?”

“Very normal,” said Andromeda.

“MUM! I might be giving birth but that doesn’t give you the right to eavesdrop on my private conversations! I’ll send you to the kitchen! I’ll fucking Imperius you out of this house if I have to!”

“That escalated rather quickly,” Andromeda muttered, giving Remus a look.

“Please focus on pushing, you’re almost there,” said the midwife.

“Almost there, my arse,” said Tonks.

The midwife was right. Within minutes she was shouting that she could see the baby’s head appearing, and encouraged Tonks to feel for it. She asked Remus if he’d like to take a look. He tried to decline, but Tonks made him.

“If I have to push it out, you can damn well suffer in your own way by looking at something that makes you uncomfortable!”

“I’m trying to make you feel comfortable,” he protested.

“No you’re not,” she said. “Get down there and tell me it’s coming out soon!”

It really was. Remus could see everything. He almost fainted. Andromeda chuckled at him, sat over on the sofa knitting away at the cardigan well out of the way.

A few more pushes, and baby was out. Tonks was helped into a position where she could hold the baby, and looked content for the first time in hours. The baby was perfect. She was perfect. 

The two of them sat for ages, staring at the other. They’d had a little boy. A son. His son, and her son, half him and half her. It was baffling, really, how someone so amazing had made a baby with him.

“What’s his name?” asked the midwife. With a wave of her wand, everything had been tidied away. 

“Edward,” said Tonks, beaming up at her. “Teddy. After my dad.”

“It’s a lovely name,” said the midwife. 

“Do you want to hold him?” Tonks asked, and Remus was surprised to find she was talking to him. He’d been content on the sidelines, watching his wife and his son together.   
“I don’t want to take him from you,” he said.

“Seriously, take him, I want to clean up a bit. Messy, this giving birth lark.” 

Remus was handed his son, and settled down into the armchair he’d been born next to. There was a flash, Andromeda taking a picture with Ted Tonks’ old camera before she walked out the room to help Tonks. He didn’t really notice. Teddy looked up at him and scrunched his face, in an almost exact imitation of his mother. 

“I look at myself like that, too,” he said to the baby. “I’m sorry, I haven’t introduced myself. I’m your dad. My name’s Remus Lupin. And you’re Edward Remus Lupin. We thought about giving you both our surnames, but your mum goes by her surname almost exclusively and we thought that would be too confusing. So you’re stuck with mine. Sorry about that.”

He took Teddy’s tiny hand and inspected it.

“All ten fingers there, I see. And ten toes. Good. I don’t know where to start with babies, if I’m honest Teddy. My friends had one, years ago, he’s seventeen and off fighting the bad guys now, and he was the last baby I had much to do with. And I was a bit scared of him. He did a wee on me once. Please don’t you do that. Maybe I should get that nappy.”

With much shuffling, trying not to disturb the baby, Remus managed to pick up the nappy off the floor. He put it on back to front, then switched it round. Teddy didn’t seem frustrated by his dad’s incompetence. He made an odd gurgling sound, as if he was happy to be wearing it at all.

“Your dad doesn’t know what he’s doing with this,” Remus said to him as he settled Teddy back into a safe position in the crook of his arm, remembering to support his head like the books and Andromeda had told him. “Your dad is better at other things, maybe. I can teach you to read. Though that’s a few years off.

“What else do you need to know? How to eat? Your mum had better teach you that to begin with. She’s got the apparatus, shall we say? When you’re a bit bigger, Nanny Andromeda is excellent at cooking. She can help you with that, neither me or your mum are much use there. Grandad Lyall, he’s good with making things. Painting, too. And me? Well, all I’ve ever been much use at is fighting the bad guys.

“There are some pretty bad guys out there right now, Teddy, but don’t worry, they won’t be coming anywhere near you. Your mum, she’s pretty good at fighting those bad guys too and we won’t let them hurt you. Ever. You’re going to be safe, and you’re going to grow up loved. You’ll go to Hogwarts in a safe world, I’m going to make sure of that. Whatever happens. 

“Look, here I am getting all teary now. Your dad doesn’t really cry. Not that men can’t. I just don’t. Maybe you’ve changed that for me.

“And I think I’ve got something to apologise for,” Remus continued. Not that his son could understand any of this, but it felt better to talk than to sit in silence with the baby. “You see, I’m a werewolf. And we don’t know if we’re going to have made you one. If I have, then I’m so very sorry Teddy. You don’t deserve a life like that, and you don’t deserve a dad who’s a part-time monster either. But, you know something? Even if most of the world hates werewolves, well it isn’t everyone. Your mum, she’s something special you know, she married one. And I know plenty of people who were happy for us. A few threaten to kill me every so often, but that’s par for the course with the whole monster thing.

“So, Teddy, I’m sorry for all of this that’s going on around you. But you know, you will be safe, and that’s what matters. We all love you, even though we don’t know you yet. Is that strange? I used to think it was when James and Lily said that about Harry as a baby, but I think I understand now. You’ll meet Harry. He’s great. He sent me back to you. Your dad did something very stupid, which I’m constantly amazed your wonderful mum forgave me for, and Harry made me come back here. And even though he’s supposed to be able to defeat You-Know-Who, I think that may just have been the best thing he’ll ever do.”

Remus suddenly became aware that someone was watching them. He looked up to see Tonks standing in the doorway, with wet hair and a clean pair of pyjamas on. When she saw he’d noticed her, she crossed the room to him.

“Sore?” he asked.

“Can barely walk,” she replied. “You don’t need to apologise for anything, you know.”

“Don’t all parents worry they’re going to ruin everything for their child at some point?” he said. “I’m just doing it a little earlier than some.”

“You’re going to be such a great father,” she said. “Now get out that chair and let me sit down. Fucking hurts, this.”

“Don’t swear around that baby!” admonished Andromeda, walking in with a pile of baby blankets. “Here, tuck him up in this.”

Andromeda left again once Tonks was settled back in the chair, Teddy in her arms. She said that they all needed a meal, and had hurried off to make something. Teddy felt that he needed a meal too, and Tonks was trying to encourage him to take the breast. He picked it up quite quickly, and was soon slurping away with a lot of noise and a Nanny-knitted blanket slung over him.

“You know, I’m bloody glad Harry sent you back too,” said Tonks. “If you’d left me do to that on my own I really would have hexed you.”

“What I want to know,” said Remus, “is how many times in our relationship you’ve threatened to hex me.”

“The important thing,” she replied, “is that I’ve never done it.”

“That’s not true, you’ve done it five times at least. Once on our wedding night.”

“That one wasn’t my fault! You were lurking around the room and I woke up in an unfamiliar place and thought you were a Death Eater. You had a hood on!”

“I was wearing a bathrobe. I’d been to the toilet. You can’t hex a man for having a weak bladder!”

“Moody would have said I could.”

“Moody hexed everything that moved anywhere within a mile of him. I don’t want to be married to Mad-Eye Moody.”

“Fair,” she said. “I love you.”

“I love you too. And Teddy.” He couldn’t take his eyes off the two of them. This was perfection. “Tonks? About Harry? Can we make him godfather?”

“I wanted to suggest that too,” she said. “Teddy Remus Lupin, you have a werewolf for a father and the Chosen One for a godfather, and your grandad was killed for being a Muggleborn. Take after the women in your life.”

“I hope he does,” said Remus, thinking about the upcoming full moon. 

He could have sworn Teddy’s hair had been brown a moment before. Now, it was definitely blue.


	30. The Battle of Hogwarts

Remus was sat on the sofa, Teddy in one arm and a book in the other, when Arthur Weasley’s Patronus soared into his living room. He’d been reading to Teddy from the Tales of Beedle the Bard. Tonks said it was pointless, reading to a baby so small, but Remus liked to. It was relaxing for him, and Teddy liked hearing the changes in his voice. If Remus read the stories right, the boy would thrash his legs at exciting bits and relax when the story was slower.

“Fred and George say there is to be battle with You-Know Who at Hogwarts. All Order members to get there now,” said the Patronus. 

Opposite him, Tonks’ face went pale.

“Are you going to go?” she asked.

“I think I’ll have to,” he replied. “This could be it. They’ll need every wand they can get.” He kept his face passive. He didn’t want her to see the panic rising within him.

“I don’t want you to go,” she said. 

“I know,” he replied. Truth be told, he didn’t want to go either. He wanted to stay here, finish the story he was reading to his son, and then do his bathtime. He wanted to balance Teddy on his legs while he ate his dinner, and then be around to pass things to Tonks while she gave Teddy his. For months, he’d done no fighting at all, and the last thing he wanted now was to head back into the fight.

“Unfortunately”, she said, “I know you’re right. They will need every wand they can get. And you’re one of their best. I just don’t want to risk you.”

“I’m nowhere near as good as you. Or the other Aurors.”

“Only because they’d never have taken a werewolf through training with their stupid prejudices. You could have done everything I have and more.”

“We’re both great,” said Remus. He didn’t want to argue, even in a good natured way with each of them arguing the case for the other. “I don’t want to go, you know.”

“I believe you,” she said. “It’s funny. A year ago you were off throwing yourself at whatever danger was passing on purpose, and I really thought you were going to get yourself killed to avoid having to admit you loved me. I almost gave up on you. I couldn’t see how you’d change. And now, here you are reading stories to your baby, not wanting to go anywhere near a battle.”

“This is what seems right,” he said. It didn’t cover all the emotions he felt, about her and Teddy and their life, and his own stupidity before, but it was all he could manage. “You’ve changed me.”

“Nah,” said Tonks. “It was never up to me to change you. That was your responsibility. I just helped you figure out that you wanted this for yourself.”

She understood. She knew all the unsaid things he was trying to say.

“I’m lucky you waited as long as you did.”

“That you are, Mr Lupin.” Her voice was jovial, and there was a smile on her face, but Remus knew it was at least partly faked. “Teddy’s not going to let you go without finishing that story.”

He finished the story. Teddy waved his legs and arms happily at the ending. Tonks insisted on a photograph of the two of them together before she took him. Everything seemed to be moving in slow motion as he handed his son over to his wife. Remus kissed both of them on the forehead.“I love you,” he whispered. “Be safe.” 

“We’ll be fine here with Mum,” said Tonks. “It’s you that’s running into danger. Bloody overly-brave Gryffindor.”

“You’d do the same if not for Teddy,” he said. “Bloody overly-loyal Hufflepuff.”

“I would,” she replied. “Come back safe.”

“Of course I will,” he replied. “I’m doing this just for you two. How stupid would I be not to come back to you at the end?”

And before he could try to stay, he turned and left. His wife and son followed him to the doorway, Teddy’s hair flicking from blue to gold and back again. As he went past, he pocketed a photograph of Teddy from the table in the hallway. He wanted to show Harry, if he was there, and the other members of the Order. They’d like to see it. 

In his sock drawer, there was a letter. He would come back the next day and remove that letter, when they’d defeated Voldemort. But in case he didn’t, it was there. For Teddy.

When he arrived in Hogshead, Apparating into the bar of the Hogs Head as instructed, the place was a mess. Aberforth was shouting at the arrivals to ‘watch my stock!’ and Arthur was herding people up a tunnel. Kingsley Shacklebolt was dashing around, for no apparent reason, and nearly collided with one of the barrels of mead Aberforth was so worried about. 

Remus grabbed Kingsley and encouraged him up the tunnel, following on behind Molly, Bill and Fleur. There were only a handful of people travelling up the tunnel, and Remus hoped it would be enough to defend the castle.

“Remus, do you know where this tunnel goes?” Kingsley asked. 

“No,” said Remus. “I contacted Fred and George. They say it will take us to where the students are gathering, or those students who are resisting Snape’s regime.”

“Wands out?” asked Bill.

“Just to be sure,” said Remus, reaching the end of the tunnel first.

There was no need. The new arrivals were engulfed by a sea of happy students, and the room seemed perfectly safe. Remus could see many of those he’d taught amongst those in the rooms, and unsurprisingly no Slytherins. Remus thought of Ottoline, and felt bad. Not all Slytherins refused to resist. He had an idea.

“Fred, George,” he said, turning to the twins. “Can we tell others about this?”

“More the merrier, I reckon,” said Fred. “I’ve got the old Quidditch team coming up. George has got a few other mates of ours on their way.”

“One of them’s a Slytherin,” said Remus.

“Hey, I’m not discriminating, long as they’ll bash You-Know-Who’s snakey nose with all the curses they know,” said George. “Needs sorting out, that nose. And I’ve got to pay old Snivellus back for an ear while I’m at it.”

“This Slytherin is one of the good ones,” said Remus. He sent his Patronus off to Ottoline and William. Somehow, it felt like they’d want to be here. 

Shortly afterwards, the castle turned to chaos. Suddenly Harry was there, and they were officially fighting. Arthur and Molly were arguing with Ginny about her involvement in the battle. Some of the students were messing around, shouting chants and singing songs. All that, Remus had expected. 

Percy Weasley arriving was not something he had expected. Remus left to go down to the Great Hall with Bill and Fleur, leaving the other Weasleys to their reunion.

He was regaining some of that feeling he’d had when he’d first joined the first war. Excitement, the feeling of power and of doing something important. Bill and Fleur were holding hands. A small part of him wished Tonks was here. He’d have liked to have been fighting beside his wife. But Teddy needed her more than he did, tonight. 

The Great Hall was filled with noise and activity. Minerva McGonagall was at the front, looking firmly in control. Gone was the nervous Headmistress of a year before, straight after Albus’ death. She was replaced by a confident, assured woman who very much suited her role in charge of the room. She stood tall, dressed in smart robes, her hair impeccable. She was ordering students, staff and Order members around with ease.

Remus slipped into a corner where he wouldn’t be in the way, next to Fred and George. The twins were singing loudly. It was a very crude song, and anatomically impossible for what they were planning to do to Death Eaters, but when they encouraged Remus to join in he did. It felt like a night for singing, and to keep busy. 

Minerva came to ask Remus for advice, which he gave. She was drawing up her battle plans. Kingsley, laughing, questioned who had put her in charge, but nobody wanted to challenge that.

As the last of the students filed in, Fred turned to Remus.

“Remus? Do you think we’ll have to actually kill someone?”

“I don’t know,” said Remus. He had no wish to lie to the twins. He hoped they wouldn’t have to; he didn’t want any of the ones he saw as the kids to have to experience the battle, let alone the feeling of responsibility for another person’s death. 

“Truth be told, I don’t really want to,” said George. “It feels like sinking to their level.”

“Have you ever killed anyone, Remus?” asked Fred.

“It may be necessary,” said Remus, thinking of the man he killed. “I have done. It weighs heavy on my heart, but it was necessary. They will be fighting to kill us. I wonder if the time for being merciful has passed.”

“Well, that makes me feel a bit better,” said George. “You’ve not turned into a raving monster for killing someone, so there’s every chance we won’t.”

“Except he does turn into a monster,” said Fred. “Big, hairy thing. Massive teeth. Claws, and all. Though he’s a fucking vegetarian monster, so how scary that could be I don’t know.”

“Ever seen how he tackles a carrot, brother of mine?” asked George.

“Can’t stand carrots,” said Remus, deadpan. “It’s the peas that need to watch out.”

“I think we’ve finally taught old fluffykins here how to joke!” said Fred, and high-fived his brother. Remus laughed. 

Minerva gave out instructions, and Remus collected his group to go out into the grounds of the castle. He waved to Fred and George, who shouted goodbyes back to him. The twins were great.

“I want to see that baby!” Minerva shouted after him, which drew a smile from Remus.

It felt good to be doing something again, in a way.

His group consisted of mainly students, an older couple who said they were parents of a student, and Emmeline Vance. A couple of the student names he recognised. Dean Thomas had been friends with his father-in-law, it turned out, and his friend Seamus had been resisting Snape from the start. The others introduced themselves as Ernie, Hannah, Lavender and Parvati. He remembered them roughly from his time teaching. 

He was about to give his group a short pep-talk on the steps of the castle when two figures came tearing out of it at speed. The blonde girl almost tripped over her laces in her haste, before barrelling into him.

“Ottoline, William! You came!” He hugged the girl back, and shook William’s hand.

“You think we’d miss this?” asked Ottoline, scraping her hair back from her face.

“Thought we’ve helped you before, we can do so again,” said William. “Ottoline claims she’s the only Slytherin fighting on our side.”

“She may well be right,” said Remus. He turned to the others. “But we can trust her.”

“Not with your cheese,” said William, bitterly.

‘Mike's here, too,” said Ottoline. “‘Cept he’s still got no wand, so I’ve Disillusioned him.”

“Going to sneak up behind people and whack them with a pipe,” said the patch of air Remus could only assume was Mike. “Ottoline’s idea. Sneaky, that girl.”

“Anna’s inside, and Eugenia. They’re shit at fighting so they’re going to stay with Madam Pomfrey and do healing stuff,” said Ottoline. “Werewolf crew, to the rescue!”

A few of the group started to look a bit concerned at the self-declared werewolf girl with lime green trainers waving her wand about with abandon.

“Alright,” said Remus, deciding now was the time to take control back. He addressed his whole group. “I want you to be aware that we’re going to be on the front line of the battle,” he said. “We will likely be the first people Death Eaters reach, when they break through the magical defences. Death Eaters battle to kill. We, generally, do not, but Minerva says on this occasion we can if we must. If you don’t want to be at the front, please leave me now rather than during the fight. When we are out there, you may well be at more danger to leave than to stay.”

“Remus is a doommonger,” said Ottoline. “You’ll be fine.”

“We’re staying,” said Dean, firmly, twiddling the wand he’d borrowed from a first-year Gryffindor who had tried to refuse to leave.   
“Of course,” said Lavender. 

“Nothing more important,” said Ernie. 

“What’s the plan?” asked Emmeline.

He outlined it. They advanced forward along a covered walkway carefully as the Death Eaters’ spells began to affect their magical protections, listening carefully for sounds of approach. Remus took the lead, Ottoline by his side. William and Dean Thomas covered their backs. 

“I can hear something,” said Parvati, as they stood by the greenhouses. 

“That way,” whispered one of the parents, pointing.

A huge group of Death Eaters were running down towards them, wands out and fierce faces. 

“Ready,” said Remus. “Fire.”

As soon as the Death Eaters were in spell casting range they began to shoot spells at Remus’ group, and they received an answering flurry back. Dean Thomas was fast, Lavender and Seamus slower but more accurate. This was a battle like even Remus had never seen it before; wizards didn’t fight in organised groups. One of the parents was hit by a spell, rolling down behind a greenhouse. Remus was firing spells as quickly as he could, trying to seek out the most dangerous Death Eaters in the group to take down first. 

The battle became more what Remus was used to. Groups spread out, taking on individuals to duel. Remus was fighting two of them. He had no time to check on the welfare of anyone else, although he desperately wanted to know. He hoped they were all alright. He hadn’t even checked on the woman who’d gone behind the greenhouse. 

Remus sent daggers flying towards one Death Eater, and while they were occupied managed to immobilise the other he was fighting. This gave him seconds to look around. Lavender was fine. Ottoline and William were backed into a corner, but handling it. He cursed the Death Eater who was almost getting the better of Seamus, causing the man’s wand arm to bleed profusely. Seamus Stunned him, hopped over him, and went to help Parvati.

The first Death Eater Remus had attacked was back, three daggers hanging precariously out of his shoulder. The only effect seemed to have been to make him more angry. Remus shot flames at him, causing his mask to heat up. The man careered backwards into a hedge, which Remus forced to bind him and then turned and ran to find another Death Eater.

Already, Remus could feel his body getting tired. He hadn’t fought since the Weasley wedding. This was not a time to give up, though. He had to help everyone else. He ran through the covered walkway, shooting spells through the greenery into the Herbology courtyard. He almost tripped over a body on the floor, and crouched down. They weren’t dead, thankfully. They were wearing Hogwarts uniform. He cast a couple of healing spells on the injuries he could see, ducked a stray curse, and stood up to rejoin the fight. It would have to do. He had to balance saving the injured with preventing more people becoming that way.

In the centre of the courtyard, three of the school students were battling one Death Eater. It was one Remus recognised as Antonin Dolohov, one of the most vicious. The students were clearly struggling. Dolohov was fast, and had no issue with using the worst of spells. It was most of what the students could do to dodge the repeated Killing Curses being flung their way, and they had little chance of getting a spell of their own on target. 

Remus darted forward, shouting them to get out of the way. He had to try and get Dolohov down. The students gratefully scattered, although not avoiding the fight they each joined another duel. These kids were so incredibly brave.

Dolohov didn’t care who he fought. He ignored the departing students and focused his attention on Remus. Perhaps he just liked to kill. Some of the Death Eaters just did.

The two wizards battled. When Remus was fit, they would have been evenly matched, and in fact Remus had bested Dolohov before. But he was slower than usual. He knew it, he could feel it, and he tried to mitigate for it, fighting more defensively than he usually would and focusing on the aim of his curses rather than the speed.

Then he saw a tuft of familiar pink hair in the walkway, from behind the plants. He thought he’d imagined it. He saw it again. He was distracted. Dolohov got a curse on mark, a blast of something purple which seared Remus’ arm. He hit him back with flames, setting the wizard’s robes on fire. Tonks burst into the courtyard, shouting.

“Remus!” she screamed.

“Tonks!” he shouted back, in between curses aimed at Dolohov.

Dolohov turned, a laugh on his sadistic face. “ _Avada Kedrava!_ ” he shouted, turning his wand on Tonks instead of Remus.

Tonks, Remus thought, Teddy. He threw himself at Dolohov, knocking the man’s focus and causing the curse to crash into a potted plant which smashed everywhere. Remus’ Muggle fighting skills were far superior to Dolohov’s, and he got two good punches in before the Death Eater cursed him off. He understood why Muggles fought that way, now. It felt good.

“You don’t fucking kill my wife!” he shouted. “This is for Teddy!” 

Both wizards screamed “ _Avada Kedrava!_ ” and Remus heard Tonks shouting his name as the green light swirled through the air. Then the world went dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhhh!
> 
> Thank you to everyone who has read, commented on, or otherwise engaged with my little story. I started writing it just to see if I could tell this story and do it justice, and I’m pleased with how it’s turned out :)
> 
> Even if the ending is shit, because these two deserved their happy ending. I may yet write that story.


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